the apology. I’m constantly apologizing. in my head, to my children, to men. It has begun to drive me mad. I think, know, that it is the people-pleasing portion of my psyche run amok.
I can get mad, or irritated, and express that feeling without needing to then go back and dry-erase that mother fucker out of existence. right?
Legit apologies are necessary things, of course. But that is 1000 times not what I’m talking about.
I was pissed the ex took two hours to pack the car so my kid almost missed his dinner with me on the ‘last night’ before the big ski trip. And I acted pissed.
Spent the next 45 minutes thinking of how I should apologize. Then, realized I didn’t have to, because showing pissed-ness is not really that terrible. I didn’t call him names, or swear. I just pointed out the inconsideration and was annoyed. So, I didn’t apologize, and the world didn’t even collapse.
There is a great call for civility in the world, and a greater one for kindness. Actual kindness.
But this, in me, is the opposite of those things. Its not real, its not actual sorrow for my behavior or the hurt it may have caused. It is the desire for someone else to stop being angry at me. This reality? It flattens me somehow, makes me waste my time and mental space on trying to ‘fix’ something that is not broken. A perversion of Authenticity? I am a nice person, a kind one even, and I try not to be otherwise. However, my humble humanity has been proven time and time and TIME again.
So, get on it. I’m going to make it my goal for this month, this month of African American history and commercial love products, to stop apologizing.
so f* off.