Apology Apologetics
For some reason lately, the subject of apology keeps coming up in one context or another. A variety of friends have had issues with apologies, anger, and interpersonal issues lately. It's also come up for characters in a storyline I'm writing in Fallen Leaves. It's gotten me thinking about apologies in general.
When I was a kid I used to say "I'm sorry." A lot. I wasn't always sure why I was sorry. I used "I'm sorry" as a magic phrase that really meant, "Please stop being mad at me, I don't care what it is I've done to offend you, just don't hate me."
I got told a lot to stop apologizing, and I never understood it. I didn't understand that a real apology isn't about making someone stop being angry, it's about recognizing your own transgressions, and wanting to make amends.
I got a little older and I learned more about apologies, and about guilt, regret, mistakes, anger, and hurt. And forgiveness. I learned that a real apology, when you have truly done something wrong, even if you didn't mean to, or had a good reason for it, or were doing the best you could, has to be an uncluttered, unencumbered thing. It has to be pure, with no "but..." appended to it.
"I'm sorry, but..." isn't an apology, it's a defense. Or sometimes an attack. It's a passive aggressive attempt to invalidate the feelings of the person to whom you are apologizing, to make them feel bad for having asked (however indirectly) an apology of you.
Here's an example. My relationship with my mom was very broken when I was a child. I moved away at fourteen, and for several years we barely spoke, and didn't see one another at all. Even after we started talking again, for years she'd say things like "I'm sorry, but I was doing the best I could. I'm sorry, but you were a difficult child. I'm sorry, but you know I had a bad childhood myself." It was never a true apology, and our relationship was never really healed, merely patched over.
Then, one day, everything changed. She said in a very genuine, open way, "I hurt you when you were a child, I shouldn't have done that. It is my greatest regret in life, and I am so sorry," without qualification, without defensiveness, without an implication that I had to forgive her. When that happened, we could finally begin to heal our relationship in earnest. That apology is, in many ways, my mother's greatest gift to me.
It's not the fact of apology, or the number of times it's made, but the sincerety of it, and the underlying willingness to hear what the person you are apologizing to is really asking for, the willingness to change your behavior so you don't have to keep apologizing, that really makes a difference.
An apology is not a defeat, either. I think a lot of times, that urge to qualify and justify that goes with an apology stems from a zero-sum game kind of thinking, where there has to be a winner and a loser. A genuine apology between peers isn't about power, or righteousness, or win and lose. It's about recognizing damage you have done, acknowledging your mistakes, and making an effort not to make those mistakes again.
My mom's apology was so healing because she allowed me to be hurt. Allowed me to have my feelings. Her apology validated my feelings, and when they were validated, I could begin the road to forgiveness. It was when she stopped qualifying her apology and emasculating it, that I was able to move beyond my hurt and start to see that yes, she really was trying the best she could.
So... I don't know where I'm going with this, except to say that there is a line in the Christian prayer that is perhaps the one most meaningful to me. "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us." It's a bit like the Golden Rule, really. We are asking God to forgive us, and to be our guide and open our hearts so that we forgive those who hurt us, too. It's the other side of apology.
When I was a kid I used to say "I'm sorry." A lot. I wasn't always sure why I was sorry. I used "I'm sorry" as a magic phrase that really meant, "Please stop being mad at me, I don't care what it is I've done to offend you, just don't hate me."
I got told a lot to stop apologizing, and I never understood it. I didn't understand that a real apology isn't about making someone stop being angry, it's about recognizing your own transgressions, and wanting to make amends.
I got a little older and I learned more about apologies, and about guilt, regret, mistakes, anger, and hurt. And forgiveness. I learned that a real apology, when you have truly done something wrong, even if you didn't mean to, or had a good reason for it, or were doing the best you could, has to be an uncluttered, unencumbered thing. It has to be pure, with no "but..." appended to it.
"I'm sorry, but..." isn't an apology, it's a defense. Or sometimes an attack. It's a passive aggressive attempt to invalidate the feelings of the person to whom you are apologizing, to make them feel bad for having asked (however indirectly) an apology of you.
Here's an example. My relationship with my mom was very broken when I was a child. I moved away at fourteen, and for several years we barely spoke, and didn't see one another at all. Even after we started talking again, for years she'd say things like "I'm sorry, but I was doing the best I could. I'm sorry, but you were a difficult child. I'm sorry, but you know I had a bad childhood myself." It was never a true apology, and our relationship was never really healed, merely patched over.
Then, one day, everything changed. She said in a very genuine, open way, "I hurt you when you were a child, I shouldn't have done that. It is my greatest regret in life, and I am so sorry," without qualification, without defensiveness, without an implication that I had to forgive her. When that happened, we could finally begin to heal our relationship in earnest. That apology is, in many ways, my mother's greatest gift to me.
It's not the fact of apology, or the number of times it's made, but the sincerety of it, and the underlying willingness to hear what the person you are apologizing to is really asking for, the willingness to change your behavior so you don't have to keep apologizing, that really makes a difference.
An apology is not a defeat, either. I think a lot of times, that urge to qualify and justify that goes with an apology stems from a zero-sum game kind of thinking, where there has to be a winner and a loser. A genuine apology between peers isn't about power, or righteousness, or win and lose. It's about recognizing damage you have done, acknowledging your mistakes, and making an effort not to make those mistakes again.
My mom's apology was so healing because she allowed me to be hurt. Allowed me to have my feelings. Her apology validated my feelings, and when they were validated, I could begin the road to forgiveness. It was when she stopped qualifying her apology and emasculating it, that I was able to move beyond my hurt and start to see that yes, she really was trying the best she could.
So... I don't know where I'm going with this, except to say that there is a line in the Christian prayer that is perhaps the one most meaningful to me. "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us." It's a bit like the Golden Rule, really. We are asking God to forgive us, and to be our guide and open our hearts so that we forgive those who hurt us, too. It's the other side of apology.