Back when I was a mere pup, Elton John composed a song entitled "Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word." Now, I have to admit that I never was a fan of this song: It always struck me as an incredibly maudlin piece of dreck (though, being nine, I wouldn't have used those precise words at the time). Plus, Sir Elton's near-falsetto made it an incredibly difficult song to sing.
Up until about 10 years ago, however, I would have agreed with Elton's sentiments. I had an incredibly difficult time apologizing and saying "I'm sorry" -- primarily because I viewed an apology (as opposed to expressing sympathy; I'm not referring here to the expression of sympathy [as in "I'm sorry for your loss"]) as an admission of wrongdoing.
This view no doubt was related, in part, to my childhood experience of my mother forcing me to say I was sorry for committing some egregious sin -- when I was not, in fact, sorry for having committed said transgression. For example, if I whacked my sister on the head with a toy, I must have done it because she deserved it. Why would I be sorry for that? Being forced to say "I'm sorry" when I wasn't sorry merely left me resentful... and raring to trespass again!
So, "I'm sorry" never really came easily to me when I was a child.
When I was in my 20s, I detoured around this expressional difficulty by learning to say, "I'm sorry you feel that way." Now, this clearly was a "cop-out" -- an expression of sympathy cleverly disguised as an apology. I was not sorry I had acted in a certain way, after all; I merely was sorry that the offendee had taken offense at my offense. You see? And that little sleight of words worked wonders for a while.
It worked until I got a job in... well, let's just call it "human resources." Saying anything more would expose my secret identity, and we can't have that, can we?
Anyway, my "human resources" job caused me to run around willy nilly; I was pulled in so many different directions that there was no question I disappointed a lot of people a lot of the time. Suckage -- both for them and for me!
And yet, something interesting happened to me in my HR position: I wound up genuinely having to apologize -- to say "I'm sorry" and mean it: "I'm sorry I'm late." "I'm sorry I won't be able to do that for you." "I'm sorry I disappointed you." "I'm sorry I wasn't able to get those figures for you."
I'm telling you, it was like I had a damned parrot on my shoulder, demanding, "Polly want an apology [squawk]. Polly want an apology [squawk]." And I'd dutifully pony... er... parrot up the apology.
You could almost say that apologizing became a habit for me. And it wasn't the worst habit I could have developed. In fact, while I initially resisted apologizing, I eventually came to admire its charms. Why? Well, I discovered that apologizing and accepting responsibility for a fuck-up really and truly disarms people. It is a significant social lubricant that helps people get along. And, it turns out that it cost/s (me, anyway) so very little.... How unexpected.
Since I'm no longer in my HR position, however, I find that I'm becoming annoyed with the whole apology habit. Why? Because I still find myself apologizing a lot -- but mostly for various things of which RA is the root cause: "I'm sorry, but I'm just so tired right now." "I'm sorry. My feet are really achy right now." "I'm sorry, but I just don't think I can." "I'm sorry, it turns out I won't be able to make it after all."
My husband keeps telling me, "Kim, you never have to apologize for being sick." And I really appreciate his attitude, and I love him for it.
But it's hard not to apologize for the shit that RA puts us, our families, and our friends through.
Just as it's hard not to get angry for having to apologize in the first place.
RA sucks.
I too have hoarseness. It's been going on for about a year and a half now. Maybe that is why I like blogging so much. I can say a lot without uttering a word.
Well said.
Jo-Ann
Posted by: J-Ann | 06/24/2009 at 06:56 PM