Stop Saying Sorry for What Isn’t Yours

I counted the apologies before dinner made it to the table. Over apologizing rarely sounds like a problem. It sounds like good manners, which is exactly why it slips past us.

Recently I spent an evening at a friend’s house. Her 4-year-old daughter played happily on the floor, surrounded by toys. My friend’s first words after hello? An apology for the mess.

Her daughter asked for a snack. Sorry, it isn’t snack time. The questions started next, the way they always do with preschoolers, and my friend apologized to me for the distraction. When I offered to help in the kitchen, she apologized for not knowing what to have me do.

Nobody needed an apology. Still, multiple apologies landed in under 30 minutes, and the evening kept going. So did the apologies.

Later, I asked if she noticed how many times she had said she was sorry. She had. She just didn’t know what else to say.

I understand. Most of us don’t.

Over apologizing starts with chasing perfect

We want the house clean, the kids content, the guest comfortable and dinner on time. When real life refuses to cooperate, sorry fills the gap. It feels like a way to smooth the rough edges.

Here’s the catch. Each apology quietly tells the people around us their happiness rests in our hands.

The little one had a snack earlier, and dinner was almost done. The whole answer could have been simple: “I know you’re hungry. I’m making dinner right now, and we’ll eat soon.” Drop the sorry, and the message gets clearer. Mom isn’t failing anyone. She’s handling it.

Kids who hear sorry for every letdown never get to practice disappointment. Without practice, they can’t handle it when it shows up later, and it always shows up. They also miss the hard lessons tucked inside a simple no, along with the chance to own their part in what happens. An apology for snack time teaches a child the clock is someone’s fault.

The cost runs both ways. When you take on responsibility for everyone else’s emotions, you stir up your own emotional turmoil. Meanwhile, the people around you get a pass on accountability for theirs.

Gibbs had a rule. I’d rewrite it.

If you watch NCIS, you know Leroy Jethro Gibbs runs his life by a list of rules. Rule No. 6: Never say you’re sorry. It’s a sign of weakness.

I wouldn’t go that far. A real apology takes courage, and people who own their mistakes earn trust. Even Gibbs eventually added Rule No. 51: Sometimes you’re wrong.

My version is simpler. Never apologize for something you don’t own.

What the research says about saying sorry

In a small study published in Psychological Science, University of Waterloo researchers asked men and women to log every offense they committed and every apology they gave for 12 days. Women apologized more often. Here’s the twist. When either group believed they had done something wrong, both apologized at nearly the same rate, about 81% of the time.

The difference came down to what counted as an offense. Women logged more moments as their fault to begin with.

Now picture my friend’s evening again. A messy living room, a hungry preschooler and a curious child aren’t offenses. They’re a normal Tuesday with a 4-year-old.

When sorry is everywhere, it stops meaning anything

My kids sometimes complain I don’t say I’m sorry very often. They’re right. I don’t.

Here’s why. When I’m wrong, or when I hurt one of them by accident or on purpose, I say I’m sorry, and they know I mean it. The phrase carries weight because I don’t spend it on everything.

Think of sorry like currency. Print enough of it, and every bill loses value. If you apologize for the rain, the traffic, the toys and the timing of snacks, how will the people around you know when you’re truly sorry?

Over apologizing at work hands off the wrong responsibility

The same habit follows us into the office. Picture a manager apologizing to her team because a client moved a deadline. Or a team lead apologizing because a coworker feels frustrated about a decision someone else made.

When we apologize to everyone around us, we take responsibility for them. We pick up their emotional regulation, their need for validation and sometimes the work they should be doing for themselves. It’s the same line I draw between empowering your team and enabling it.

There’s a second cost, and it’s a big one. Every time you apologize for someone else’s mistake, you let the person who owns it off the hook. The apology belongs to them. When you hand it out on their behalf, they never learn to say it.

How to stop over apologizing

Start with two questions. How many times a day do you say you’re sorry? How many of those times involved something you actually controlled?

Then try a few swaps. Trade “Sorry I’m late” for “Thank you for waiting.” Replace “Sorry to bother you” with “Do you have a minute?” Tell a hungry child “Dinner is almost ready” instead of apologizing for the clock. And when someone offers help, skip the apology and give them a job: “Can you set the table?”

Next, make it a game. Grab a buddy, whether it’s a friend, a coworker or a family member, and agree on a simple system. Every time you say sorry, text your buddy the letter S. No reply needed. They know what it means.

When you catch yourself starting to apologize and say something else instead, send an emoji of your choice. At the end of the day, tally them up. Watch the S column shrink and the emoji column grow.

This works best when your buddy plays too. So when their emoji lands in your phone, celebrate it. Give it a high five. Breaking a habit is easier with someone cheering you on, and a little accountability goes a long way.

When you should say you’re sorry

A real apology does more than end an awkward moment. It tells the other person you see what happened, and you see them. It shows kids what repair looks like. At work, it tells your team mistakes are survivable, including the boss’s.

So say it when you own the outcome. Maybe you broke a promise, snapped at someone or missed something you were responsible for catching. Name what you did, skip the “but,” and then change the behavior. The words open the door. The change walks through it.

The other side of sorry

When someone apologizes to me, I appreciate the nod and accept it. For the small stuff, I move on. For bigger or more personal hurts, I accept the apology and keep my eyes open.

Accepting an apology and trusting someone again aren’t the same thing. One takes a sentence. The other takes time and changed behavior.

I learned this from someone in my orbit who was often rude or dismissive. The pattern rarely changed on its own. Other people who witnessed the interactions would point out the behavior, and then the apology would arrive in front of the group.

And there you are, stuck. Refuse, and you look petty. So you say, “I appreciate that,” or “I forgive you,” and everyone moves on except you.

A public apology like this often serves the audience more than the person on the receiving end. Even Gibbs had a rule for it. Rule No. 42: Never accept an apology from someone who just sucker punched you.

I still accept. “I appreciate that” acknowledges the words without signing off on the behavior. What I watch is what comes next.

Which raises the harder question. How many times can someone say they’re sorry before you stop believing them? An apology with no change behind it becomes one more phrase thrown around, the same way sorry loses value when we over apologize. When it keeps happening, the pattern tells you more than the words. It’s a bigger conversation, and I’ll dig into it in a future post.

My friend didn’t need to be more perfect that night. She needed permission to stop carrying everyone’s comfort on her shoulders.

Maybe you do, too.

If over apologizing has crept into how you lead at work or at home, let’s talk about it.

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