I Am Done Apologizing and I’m Not Sorry

I have spent most of my life apologizing — for being too much of this or not enough of that, being in the way, saying and/or doing the wrong thing, and for my lack of super powers.

I have apologized when you’ve told me you’re sick, as if it’s my fault, instead of telling you I’m sorry to hear. I have also taken full responsibility for any and all negative feelings my feelings may have caused you.

I’ve “toned down” aspects of my personality to make sure you didn’t feel small or unnoticed, even within moments meant to be mine — my moments. God forbid someone, anyone, might feel less than comfortable and cushy in my presence.

Some of that has been for me, because I am an empath and your negative vibes scratch my soul, but it’s mostly been for you. 

I have held my breath – for days – on the off chance someone else might need the extra oxygen.

I have apologized for making all the things look “easy,” when you’ve mentioned it, and shamed myself the days I haven’t left my bed in fear of those very things.

I have compared myself to you, almost every day, in hopes today will be the day I finally measure up to whatever unrealistic or unfair expectations you may be holding for me. And then, I have apologized for falling short.

I have hustled for worth.

I have remained silent, despite having much to say, worried I might appear too eager, confident, or full of myself.

I have whispered when I’ve wanted to shout, hovered when desperate to put my foot down, and tried to completely disappear when all I really wanted to be was seen. 

I have held my breath – for days – on the off chance someone else might need the extra oxygen.

When bumped on the street, it has been my apologies you’ve heard for simply standing still, in plain sight, where you could not have possibly seen me. Me, who has been sorry for not sooner realizing you weren’t paying attention and stepping aside.

I have apologized to nail salon techs and gynecologists for not shaving my legs. Weeks ago, I shot one at my massage therapist, because I fell asleep on the table and woke myself moaning (that one escalated to straight up weird real quick). 

Can you imagine? Perhaps you can. Maybe you can even relate.

We all have work to do to find our own sense of peace.

Many have become accustomed to my apologies; even perhaps expecting them and behaving accordingly. I strongly urge those folks to read this a cautionary tale.

I am in the miraculous process of reclaiming my worth and power. I will no longer be doling it out to the masses or allowing others to dictate or dangle it just outside my reach. I am in practice of all but completely banishing the word “sorry” from my vocabulary where it is not warranted.

I will not from this point forward throw this word around to excuse or pacify you. I will not apologize for whatever I have that you do not. I have worked hard for these things, and you can too.

I will not apologize for having edges and boundaries or for the fact that there are limits to what I can do. My primary purpose is not to save the universe, and I am done apologizing because I can’t fix you. My process and existence is no less important than yours and I deserve the same amount of room to make mistakes and stretch my wings.

I am not sorry for all the oxygen I breathe and I’m done holding my breath. I have grown tired of apologizing for who I am, the things I want and need, or how my presence or personality makes you feel. It is not my job to help you process your feelings about my feelings. I do not have time to make sure you feel warm, cozy, and comfortable with the way I live my life.

You can go ahead and keep all that excess garbage to yourself, because I’ve come to the beautiful realization that it’s not mine to carry around. I will no longer remain silent. I will not dull my shine so you can feel better about the fact that that you don’t. That is not my work to do — it’s yours. 

We all have work to do to find our own sense of peace. I’m through adding your to-do list to mine.

I’m done apologizing.
I’m not sorry.