Instead of “Sorry” say “Thank you”

Growing up, I knew my place in the world. I said please and thank you, and I apologized for any possible misstep.

Walking through a grocery store, my mom would pull me to the side to let other people pass. As I stepped out of the way, I would lower my head and say, "Sorry."

I didn't want to be a burden. I didn't want to be an inconvenience. I was taught to not take up space.

"Sorry" was my go-to response in many situations.

• Sharing tight public spaces and trying not to bump into someone: Sorry.

• Making a phone call: Sorry to bother you.

• Needing a ride home: Sorry you had to go out of your way.

• Causing someone to wait for me: Sorry I took so long.

• Showing up late: Sorry I was late.

• Not having the answer to a question: Sorry, I don’t know.

• Tears rising unexpectedly during a conversation: Sorry that I’m crying.

Recently, my daughter and I were talking about social interactions, and we began exploring the energetics behind our responses.  Specifically, we talked about empty apologies that are unnecessary.

Of course, there is a time and a place for a heartfelt apology. When we've caused harm, acknowledging it with sincerity creates the possibility for healing and repair. But so many of our apologies have nothing to do with harm. They are simply habits, ways we've learned to make ourselves smaller. Those are the moments I wanted to feel into.

When we say Sorry, the energy-body contracts.

Take a moment to close your eyes and think of an empty “I’m sorry” statement that you make.  See what you feel in your body. 

Personally, I feel a contraction in the center of my chest. It's as though my energy is trying to become smaller and take up less space. Instead of expanding into the world, I become self-conscious and pull inward.  

And that contraction rarely stays with just one person.

Imagine walking up a trail as someone else is hiking down, meeting in an awkward moment of “who will change their stride and shift to the side?” They move over for me and I say Sorry for making them move.  My energy immediately shrinks with the apology. This can unintentionally trigger the other person to contract as well. They may feel guilty or confused for causing you to shrink. One contraction invites another.

What if there was another option?

What if, instead of saying "Sorry," we simply said, "Thank you."

Close your eyes again, and imagine the same scenario of empty apologies, and replace it with gratitude.

As the other hiker steps aside, I could smile and say, "Thank you."

The energy of thank you feels different.  I feel more expansive and open.  I feel a connection with the other person.

"Thank you" acknowledges the other person's kindness. It honors their choice. It allows you to receive the gift they have offered, however small it may seem. At the same time, it offers them the opportunity to receive your appreciation.

It is an open-hearted exchange.

The same is true when you arrive late. Instead of saying, "I'm so sorry," try saying, "Thank you for your understanding."

Notice how different that feels.

Rather than shrinking in guilt, you are recognizing the inconvenience placed upon the other person, while also appreciating the other person's willingness to understand. They feel seen. You remain open. Both people are invited to stay expansive and connected.

Imagine you're sharing a deeply personal story. As you speak, tears unexpectedly rise to your eyes. Many of us have been conditioned to apologize for expression of emotions. "I'm sorry for crying."

But what if there was nothing to apologize for? What if, instead, you said, "Thank you for being a safe space for my feelings."

Rather than stuffing emotions back inside, you honor them. You acknowledge the safety the other person is providing. You allow yourself to receive their presence while expressing genuine gratitude.

The entire interaction shifts.

Perhaps this practice isn't really about replacing sorry with thank you.

Perhaps it's about no longer apologizing for your presence.

You are allowed to take up space. You are allowed to have emotions. You are allowed to need support. You are allowed to be beautifully, imperfectly human.

When we stop shrinking ourselves, our hearts stay open. Our energy remains expansive. Gratitude becomes an invitation, for ourselves and for those around us, to meet one another with greater compassion.

And from that place, our light naturally shines.