Raspberry Iced M

If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m a great planner. But I am not an expert at application.

The gratification I get from doing the research, from creating the task list, from discussing said plans…

It’s Dopamine Central.

But when it comes to application…or execution of said plans…I freeze.

I can’t figure out if my anxiety takes over, leaving me terrified of failing at applying what I know…or if I’m lazy or too stubborn to put a plan into practice…or if I have the mental capacity – but lack the physical capacity – to see something through.

And this concept is relevant in many areas of my life. Not just tasks/to-do lists. But also to more abstract things like boundaries. Masking. Forgiveness.

And apologies.

I am a deep feeler. I’m an incredibly empathetic person. And that’s not always a good thing. Because while that empathy subsequently makes me compassionate, it also prompts me to take on problems that are not mine, which makes my load very heavy, which, in turn, makes me very resentful…erroneously resentful…for trying to handle something no one gave me intentionally.

And a good example of that is in the way I apologize.

I believe in apologies. Real ones. The kind that are not attached to excuses. The kind that admit, “I was wrong. I hurt you. I should’ve handled that differently.“

I’ve needed to make plenty of those. And I probably always will.

But apologizing for everything is not actually humble.

Sometimes over-apologizing is rooted in fear of abandonment, in people pleasing, and in managing in how we are perceived.

And in a world I once mistook as black and white, the gray area I couldn’t see before was that accountability for my part does not mean accountability for all parts.

1. I won’t apologize for having feelings. My feelings aren’t always facts. And they don’t always require action. But they are still real. To me. So while I am responsible for how I express them, I won’t apologize for experiencing them in the first place. Being hurt doesn’t make me dramatic. Feeling disappointed doesn’t make me ungrateful. And feeling angry doesn’t automatically make me wrong. My responsibility lies in what I do with the feeling, not in having the feeling.
2. I won’t apologize for needing time to think. Because I don’t always have an immediate answer, and I am in a season where I pray for clarity before making decisions. So at times I need space. I need to sleep on it. I need to separate what I actually think from what I feel in the moment. That’s not avoidance. In fact, it’s often the thing that keeps me from saying something I’ll regret later.
3. I won’t apologize for saying no. I am allowed to decline an invitation, a request, a conversation, a task that was never mine. And I don’t have to follow up my “nos” with five-paragraph explanations. The level of disappointment that I have caused other people because of my behavior is regretful – and the guilt I feel for it and the sentence I have handed myself because of it – it’s real and it’s raw and I am sitting in the consequences of that behavior today. So when someone asks me to do something, my instinct is to always say yes, as if the disappointment they feel about my past will somehow be offset or canceled by doormatting myself into submission. But that doesn’t work. So I have learned to let people be disappointed in my past…and also be disappointed because I won’t bend to their every, current whim.
4. I won’t apologize for changing my mind. I know things today that I didn’t know ten years ago, five years ago, last year, or last Tuesday. I believe changing my mind is a good thing, as it is my hope that everyone’s opinions change when new information, wisdom, and conviction require it. I wasn’t fake before. I just know better now.
5. I won’t apologize for being different than someone expected. People develop versions of us in their minds. Sometimes those versions are outdated. Sometimes they were never accurate. So I can listen – and I do – when someone tells me how my behavior affects them. And I can examine myself with honesty. But I don’t have to become the person someone else has decided would be easier for them to understand.
6. I won’t apologize for protecting what little peace I have. I don’t avoid every conversation. Sometimes peace requires having one. But sometimes conversations stop being productive. And even though it will tear me up – in private – to process an argument or a disagreement – I don’t have to perpetuate the conflict. Some things just need to end.
7. I won’t apologize for growing out of who I used to be. There are things I once tolerated that I don’t anymore. There are things I once chased that no longer interest me. And I used to behave in ways – toxic and self-protective ways – that I am trying to leave behind. And in doing so, my relationships have changed. My habits have changed. My priorities have changed. I grieve people who have walked away from me. But I don’t have to continue to be the person they think I am.
8. I won’t apologize for wanting a quiet life. I don’t need constant excitement anymore. Or a packed calendar. I don’t need to be everywhere. Most days, I just want to stay home. The Me of 15 years ago would be horrified.
9. I won’t apologize for taking my faith seriously. For a very long time, I strayed from what I knew was right just to satisfy my need for acceptance and approval…from people who aren’t even happy with themselves. In hindsight, it doesn’t make sense, even if I thought I had it all figured out at the time. My faith affects how I make decisions. How I understand right and wrong. How I think about forgiveness, repentance, grace, relationships, and the person I want to be. I’m not sorry that my convictions occasionally make me stand awkwardly outside the culture around me.
10. I won’t apologize for anything I am doing now to become someone I can respect. I’ve spent a lot of time shaping myself around what other people deem valuable. What is acceptable to society in general, or, alternatively, what someone I love prefers the most. I wanted to be chosen, understood, enough. Even if that meant being dishonest about myself. And in doing so, I created a lot of chaos, heartache, and estrangement. I don’t want to live that way anymore. I want to make decisions I can stand behind, whether anyone else agrees with them or not. I want to keep my word, tell the truth, own my mistakes, live faithfully, and love people well…even if people don’t acknowledge it or believe it or understand it or accept any changes I’m trying to make. I can’t be so bothered by the noise of judgment that I shrink anymore than I already have. People don’t have to stay. And they don’t care that it hurts me that they left. So I am not sure why I cared for so long about what they thought in the first place.

I will apologize when someone is owed an apology from me. I am mature enough and willing enough to hand out “sorries” like Jolly Ranchers. In no way have I ever been perfect, and in fact, I have spent a lot of my adult life in so much brokenness that even an apology may not encompass my remorse.

But the days of apologizing just because I was uncomfortable with someone else being uncomfortable with me? Those days are over. I think.

I will apologize for harm. Dishonesty. Selfishness, cruelty, broken promises, and careless words.

I will not apologize for having needs, for using my voice, for changing, for resting, for saying no, for not receiving the judgment people hand out at the same rate I’m expected to apologize.

Once upon a time, my values were acceptance, approval, and popularity.

Those values have changed, even if it is because my old values were pried from cold, dead hands.

And if the last year has defined anything for me, it’s a new, improved, correct set of values: Compassion. Resilience. Creativity. Generosity. And authenticity.

I aim to be someone who is quick to apologize when I am wrong…and equally unwilling to accept blame – or feel guilty – for being a whole person.