Tuesday, June 23, 2015

in which I'm {not} sorry

I haven't blogged since March, since I figured out that keeping up a habit of prolific writing is difficult when you can't stop throwing up long enough to type a full sentence.

Over the past month, I've been thinking about my space here, wondering if I was ever going to come back and write another word here. The last post I wrote fell on seemingly deaf ears. No one commented, no one shared. I was going to come back with an apology post.

The irony of that will hit you in a minute.


Women apologize a lot. For bumping into someone, for not seeing past the over-full endcap at the grocery store, for standing in the spot where someone might possibly want to stand in the next few minutes.

I'm sorry. Oops, sorry about that. 

Whoops, sorry. 

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

I'm sorry. 

The idea was posed to me today via a local radio host that perhaps women are incapable of a sincere apology. I have to admit, he might be close to right. Because when you repeat the same words, over and over again, simple letters for just standing there, just existing, just wearing this or saying that or exhaling in the wrong direction....do they lose their meaning?

It's that overuse that we've come to understand as prevalent in a country where the primary language is complicated in the small things but too simplified in the bigger things. Greek has three words for love. Sanskrit has ninety-six. English has one.

And then we come back to "I'm sorry" and the way that maybe it doesn't mean what it should. And it's not because we don't mean it when we say it, because we do. But it's repeated so often that it has lost meaning. It sounds funny to our ears.


It even looks funny when I type it now. 


I'm in my third trimester of pregnancy with our second daughter. Our second girl. Our second future woman.

There is more to this discussion. There has to be, for my girls' sake. For my sister's sake. For my daughters' daughter's sake. For my own sake.

Because it was Jill who memorized the Signs. It was Lucy who saw Aslan on the cliff. It was Jael who hammered the tent peg through Sisera's temple. It was Mary who saw Him first.

And none of them were apologizing between roars.


  1. Yes, I agree. When I first met and married my husband he was intrigued by my constant apologies. Sorry had become so prevalent in my speech patterns that when I truly meant to say "I'm Sorry", I know that he was confused. I also agree with the what you shared in your last paragraph. Nice Post!

  2. It is really good to hear your voice in Blog Land again. And this post was a perfect way to re-enter. I am always saying I'm sorry. Many times I've been told in response, "It's not your fault." To which I reply, "Yes, but I'm sorry it happened." However, I realize that my trigger-apologies often come from the place where that *I'm-not-enough* feeling resides. I don't like that feeling.

    And I just love what you said - "...none of them were apologizing between roars." That is SO good!!

    Yes, reminded me of that old Helen Reddy song (and I am severely dating myself here) - "I Am Woman." Part of the lyrics go like this:

    "I am woman, hear me roar
    If I have to, I can do anything
    I am strong
    I am invincible
    I am woman."

    I believe Aslan is calling us to roar...


  3. Well put. Thank you for putting into dramatic and elegant words what other people feel but cannot verbalise.

  4. I've been thinking a lot about the word sorry over the past few months as I near the end of pregnancy with my second daughter as well. Isn't it funny how raising daughters makes you look at your actions and words in an entirely new way? I get so nervous that I'm teaching her all of my own insecurities and bad habits, "sorry" definitely being high up on that list...

    I also see I'm a few months late commenting, which means congratulations may be in order. :)


I look at you and see all the ways a soul can bruise, and I wish I could sink my hands into your flesh and light lanterns along your spine so you know there's nothing but light when I see you. :: Shinji Moon