Stop Saying Sorry

I hope this will be one of the most impactful blog posts. It will be short and to the point but it is an important point. Upon reflection, it's a point that I've observed of myself quite regularly but have never properly sat down to reflect upon it in depth and realize its impacts, which spread like tentacles into all facets of life. 

I was travelling for work. It was one of those ungodly early hour flights, where I had to wake up at 4AM in order to make it to the airport by 5AM to catch a 6AM flight so that I can get to work by 8:30AM. Yup, one of those flights. I do these quite frequently (at least once a month) but it doesn't get any easier. As much as I try to get some shut eye on the flight, I'm never asleep, always in that state of semi-consciousness. Nowadays, I don't even try anymore. Just put my headphones on, watch an in-flight movie on my phone, and zombie out for the one hour flight. It's too early for me to even contemplate socializing with anyone. 

And so for this flight, I was in my seat by the aisle ready to go at 6:30AM. I had my headphones ready, and the airline's app open to begin watching my show (Fresh off the Boat). My seat belt was positioned by my side, unbuckled as the seats next to me were empty. It looked like a full flight so I was fully expecting passengers to come and sit next to me. Sure enough, the passenger for the window seat showed up. I got up to let him in. At this point, my luck could go either way. I looked down the aisle and hoped that nobody makes eye contact and just move straight on. Then I spotted him..... actually he was hard to miss. A big Pacific Islander (I would later learn was from Tonga), in bright yellow high visibility vest, with tattoos down both arms, and thick hair down to his shoulders, and a thick beard. He looked like The Rock only meaner and possibly even wider. He wasn't fat, but muscular and wide. At this point, my heart sank as I knew he was going to sit right next to me. Talk about self fulfilling prophecies, the more I wished he didn't sit next to me, the more the signs indicated that he was going to. As he approached my row, he slowed down and then there it was..... eye contact. "I'm in there bru" said the big man. I got up, to let him in. But really, given his size, it made little difference. As I sat back down in my seat, it felt like half his body was over the arm rest and onto my side. I spied the passenger by the window and he was in the same predicament.  

As the plane took off, I was stuck in a contorted fashion, trying to push into the aisle. I couldn't even enjoy my in flight movie in silence, it was so difficult to watch with my muscles strained in an awkward manner. Each time I moved or tried to relax, I'd bump into the big man's arm. Each time, I'd say sorry. It was about half way though the flight as I was trying to eat my in-flight muffin when I bumped his arm again and without thinking, I said sorry. Then this big hand came into view from the corner of my eye and tapped my tray table. I take my headphones down, turned to look at the guy and I hear this deep voice say.... "Bru, how many times are you going to say sorry?" I looked at him in confusion. "Mate, you've said sorry to me so many times since we took off, and I don't even know what you're sorry about." 

He must've seen the cogs turning in my head as my literal mind tried to recall how many times I've actually said sorry. So he chipped in "Bru, you said sorry when I got into my seat, you said sorry each time you bumped me even though my arm is clearly over the arm rest. I've actually lost count." I don't have a great memory, but I recall this conversation exactly because it was so impactful.

"If anything, I should be saying sorry, but I'm not. There are bigger things to be sorry about than this." Normally, I would've gotten angry internally, suppressed any external emotion, and retreat back into my shell. But they say your mind is clearest in the morning so I decided to engage in conversation. Despite external appearances, the man was a great conversationalist. I learnt that he was from Tonga, had a family, worked in a mine site, and his English name was Chris. He has a Tonga name too but that's too hard to remember. The last 30 minutes of the flight passed in a flash and we chatted away. I'd even forgotten that I only had half my seat available to me. It felt like one of the fastest flights I've had and as we got off the plane, his exact words to me were "Bru, don't be sorry for who you are. Save them for bigger things in life"

And with that single line, I knew he was right. As I reflect back (even in the last few months), I recalled all the instances when I've said sorry unnecessarily or felt sorry internally. Like when someone accidentally bumped into me in the supermarket (yes, I said sorry) or even the sorry I felt when I got onto the escalator without giving someone the opportunity to get on first. If don't have a good memory, just go back through your sent emails. How many work emails have you sent over the last month that begins with "Apologies for the interruption..." or "I know you're busy but..." or "Could I borrow your time to...". Or, check the emails where you've grovelled and thanked somebody for their time even though you're responding to them. Seriously, do a quick check, just over the last month. You'll be surprised at just how many times you've done this. When I did this, the stand out example for me were emails to my boss' assistant. They all started with "Sorry to bug you..." or "Apologies, could I trouble you to...". Yet, getting her to help me do something is her job, and I am apologizing for asking her to do her job. I noticed each time, she has graciously tried to give me a hint to stop apologizing with "It's not trouble" or the most obvious one "Happy to. It's my job".

I've said sorry more times when I'm not in the wrong than when I am actually the culprit. It's almost as if I'm sorry for my existence, sorry for being in someone's way, sorry to be alive. Why do I say sorry so often. I think it's because it's an outward symptom of my internal self. A small indicator that reflects how I see myself in this world. That I don't belong, that I'm a fraud, and I don't deserve to be where I am. But like we've discussed before, all of it is in my mind. That's not true at all. I've worked hard to be where I am career wise, I've worked hard to be an upstanding citizen, and I've tried hard to stick to my moral compass. 

So if saying sorry is a small reflection of how you see yourself internally, perhaps by not saying sorry, you can change (by whatever small degree) how you see yourself. And it's a small and simple action to adopt. It's free and it's sustainable. I've been doing this for over a fortnight now and you know what? Nobody has called me a jerk. I'll smile and I'll do my best to get out of the way, but I won't say sorry if I haven't done anything wrong. My emails are now shorter without all the apologies at the beginning. Has it changed me internally? Well, at first it did feel a bit strange to resist the urge but in a small way, I can feel a slight change. A fortnight is a small amount of time so I can't support the change with empirical evidence so I'll report back later. But in all honesty, it's a small and easy change to adopt. And it's the right thing to do. Of course, if you're in the wrong then by all means apologize, but like the big Tongan said to me... stop saying sorry and save them for the bigger things in life.

Blog photo by Tim Mossholder in Unsplash.