What will I stop apologizing for?
I typed this question into the notes on my phone as I sat and listened in a Strength Finders training. I originally intended this to be more about strengths and personality and the basic characteristics of how we’re wired. Over the next few weeks it grew into something much more broad.
I snagged Rachel Hollis’s Girl, Stop Apologizing on a random sale, even though I’d been saving it to listen via audio on my next solo road trip. I dove into the introduction on a quiet Black Friday morning while I worked to decide if I was going to go out into the world of crazies. The intro was flooded with this theme — the idea to stop apologizing for who we are and what we want out of life. I started to think about the things I apologize for without really realizing it.
I apologize for my writing. For reserving time for it, for spending money on growing it, for sharing it on social media so that people can actually be helped or inspired by it. I used to apologize inside my writing, and thankfully learned about this tendency years ago from Emily P. Freeman, long before I was a hope*writer. I still have to make frequent company with the backspace button because it’s so hard to show up and make points and share ideas without qualifying them all the time. I don’t want anyone to take something the wrong way or get mad at me. So I apologize, without actually saying the words.
I apologize for putting my head down and getting my work done sometimes. When I’m at the office, I don’t really like to socialize much. I like to come in, do my job, and move on. I despise coffee pot conversations because they can often switch to gossip before you realize it, and I simply won’t participate in that. I’m telling you, it’s awkward for the both of us when I just turn and walk away. Don’t include me in that. The tendency to come in without socializing has put several labels on me over the years, that don’t really reflect who I believe myself to be. I’ve apologized for this, and I’ve shed a lot of tears on occasion. I love people and I love connection. I do not love standing around and shooting the breeze for no reason. Let’s visit and have meaningful conversation. Tell me about your goals and dreams or your struggles and fears. I cannot do small talk successfully. I don’t want to apologize for this anymore.
I apologize for using cuss words. I grew up admiring my mom’s friend because she cussed. I thought she was a total badass because cuss words were taboo in my house, unless you dropped a brick on your toe or something. I watched my mom squirm as her friend used her flowery language around me and all I could think was, “Man, this woman IS SO COOL.” Some day, I might teach Sunday School again and decide to eradicate my potty mouth. For now though, it just is what it is. I have an entire chapter in my “book” devoted to cuss words. I hope Zach’s mom doesn’t read this one and nonetheless, I’m tired of feeling like I have to apologize for this. If you haven’t noticed, I’m backspacing the cuss words here a lot less. The “badass” above gets to stay. This is my website, after all. I can say whatever I want here.
I think through a lot of these specific things, and there’s another big one that really stands out. It’s the one that makes my heart race at the thought of sharing publicly. It’s the one that makes my eyes fill with liquid because it’s so close to my tender heart. Truthfully, I consider not sharing it at all. It’s mildly controversial. It’s so very hard for me to admit and discuss, and I’m slightly afraid of putting this version of my truth into the hands of just anyone. Then I remember, I do all of this — this writing, this website — in hopes that sharing my truth with the world will make people like me feel less alone. So I keep typing.
When I think of the number one thing I’m apologizing for these days, it’s about my family. I’m sorry for being divorced. I’m sorry for not having kids while I was married, even though that was 100% a logical decision, when I could have simply used emotion. I apologize for not being remarried yet. I apologize for bringing into my world these two kids that aren’t biologically or legally mine to claim. I apologize for letting them take up so much space in my thoughts and my world when they’re simply not mine.
I’m asked at least twice a week if I have children. For some reason, this is still a question that’s socially acceptable. Right now, this is such a hard question to answer. I shrink 12 sizes inside when I’m asked. No matter how many big things I’m doing in life, this one little question reduces me to nothing. No, I’ve never birthed children and I don’t even legally have stepchildren. And yet, right now there’s a hot wheels car under my feet and I spent $300 on winter clothes to fit growing bodies last night. So what’s the right answer? The “right” thing is to love them as if they’re my own, to go ALL IN no matter how hard it is. But do I have kids? No, not really.
I spend so much time apologizing for my current familial status. I’ve never been great at hanging out in middle grounds and that’s where I currently live. Whether it’s verbal or just on repeat in my mind, I’m constantly apologizing for this. It’s sort of like imposter syndrome. Like I’m pretending to be a mom when I haven’t even had my own children. How dare I! I go all in with Zach and these kids and then I apologize for it. Not out loud of course, through my actions. I worry so much about crossing some boundary or about claiming something that isn’t mine. I give so much and then I’m shaken to my core in fear of being told none of this is mine or that I need to stay in my lane. I cry in the quiet moments alone because I feel like an imposter, when authenticity is one of my core values.
I posted a picture of us from Thanksgiving and called it a “family photo.” I attempted to reword that caption for 20 minutes. Are they my family? Yes, but no. If I could just think of another caption, I wouldn’t put myself at risk of being seen as what I really am — a 34 year old divorcee with no family of her own. I probably shouldn’t post anything at all, maybe just another pic of my coffee cup. It’s definitely more safe. Zach hardly posts any pictures of us. I should probably follow his lead. I post the picture anyway, even though it leaves me in tears on the couch.
I wonder though, what would it be like to stop apologizing for this middle ground? What would it be like to just own where I am in life right now? I don’t have any kids but every other weekend, I pretend like I do. I’m certain that no one else is as concerned about what’s official in my life and what’s not. I know that this anxiety is purely of my own making. As I sit with this book and these thoughts, I can’t help but admit that this is the thing. This is the dark corner of my current world that I have to stop apologizing for. It just is what it is. It doesn’t look like a fairytale or even slightly like what I imagined my life would be. And yet, it is what it is. I’m here and I might as well show up for it without so much fear.
What is it that you’re apologizing for? Like me, you’re probably not doing it outloud. It probably shows up in your subtle actions and in ways that you play small. What would your life look like if you simply owned it, whatever “it” is?
There are loads of powerful women in the world right now, leading the charge by simply owning who they are and how they’re made. This isn’t a luxury reserved for Lizzo or Rachael Hollis. This is our birthright too. We deserve the opportunity to simply be who we are and settle into that truth. What truth do you need to just embrace today? I say this with so much love and kindness — Girl, Stop Apologizing!
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