I'm So Sorry

To the babysitter: I’m so sorry. This is place is such a mess. I can’t keep up.

To my kids: I’m so sorry, girls. I know mommy is yelling. I’m so sorry. I’m working on it.

To my friend: I’m so sorry. The kids are sick. I can’t come.

To my child’s teacher: I’m so sorry. It’s my fault my daughter didn’t do the project on time.

To my dog: I’m so sorry, Harpy. I promise to take you on a longer walk tomorrow. You’re a good girl.

To the swim instructor: I’m so sorry we’re late. I had the time written down wrong.

To my husband: I’m so sorry. I know I’m moody. I’m just so down lately.

To my hairdresser: I’m sorry I had to cancel. I don’t have childcare today.

To the people in the store: I’m so sorry my kids are being wild. I promise I teach them manners.

To my sibling: I’m so sorry I didn’t answer the phone or call you back. It was chaos here.

To my book club members: I’m so sorry I didn’t finish the book. Life got away from me.

To my friends: I’m so sorry. I meant to text you back. I really did.

To my daughter: I’m sorry you didn’t like the lunch I made. I won’t make that next time.

I’m sorry has become my refrain—my constant chorus. I say it now without thinking, as effortless as breathing. I almost just apologized to you right now for this pity party.

Google says that some people apologize too much because they are chronically insecure, feel inferior, or are hoping to avoid conflict. Sure, I might be all of those things. But that isn’t why I’m apologizing all the time. I’m constantly apologizing because I’m hoping those little words can be band aids to the problems piling around me like the clutter in my home. I feel the stress and tension settling in my body, tying knots. My neck and shoulders are a mess. Each time I utter the words I’m hoping they will help someone—me or the recipient.

I apologize all the time because I’m looking for relief anywhere I can. I’m desperate for understanding and forgiveness. I’m desperate for grace. I’m trying so damn hard, but I’m drowning in these days of motherhood. And I’m failing all the time. I’m not doing anything well. I’m even failing at feeling relief from saying I’m sorry. I’m saying it so often that it’s lost all meaning. It doesn’t even help me.

I suspect I’m not alone. I suspect there’s a whole pack of us out here just slinging apologies left and right while we’re frantically trying to keep our heads above water. Solidarity, friends.

I have no advice for you. Except maybe stop apologizing.