Why are we always apologizing for expressing ourselves? -- Guest Post

Today I found out that I have Lyme Disease. It has already invaded my joints, judging from puffy tautness of my left hand knuckles and wrist. I have no memory of yanking a tick from my skin. But that’s beside the point.

Yesterday in my online journal I complained about how much my wrist hurt. Immediately after posting that I posted an apology for whining.

That got me thinking.

It’s a strange business communicating online. On Facebook we’re expected to put on public faces and post photos of our loved ones, or, save that, repost inspirational quotes or photos of cute baby animals. Online journals traditionally eschew that for intimacy with a handpicked built-in audience who will celebrate your joys, comfort you in your grief, help you solve an issue you’re currently experiencing.

One thing I’ve noticed over the years is how we’re apt to apologize for complaining online about something.

Doesn’t that sound weird to you?

If we want to vent, whine, or complain about something in our own space why do we suddenly feel the need to apologize? Is it because we shouldn’t express the, shall we say, less sunshiny sides of ourselves? Is it because we’re afraid we’ll alienate our audience? What if we can’t stop whining? Why do we feel we need permission to vent about an actual medical condition?

Maybe our support systems are too preoccupied to listen to our woes. Perhaps our friends live too far away for us to drop in for coffee and a chat.

Maybe we should just shut up, put on the proverbial big girl panties and deal.

BUT WHY DO WE FEEL WE HAVE TO APOLOGIZE FOR ALL OF THIS?

I sure as hell don’t know. All I know is that I’ve been diagnosed with a disease which, if left unchecked, can wreak havoc not only with my nervous system but also with my short-term memory. I’m already past the too-tired-to-move stage.

As I said in my online journal, I know, in the greater scheme of things, Lyme is a mere blip and it boggles my mind that someone as relatively healthy as me has it.

I apologized in my own online journal because I didn’t want my friends – my audience – to think badly of me. I still have that tiny “what if they don’t like me anymore?” shred left over from junior high. I don’t want them to think I’m tedious or I’ve branded myself as The Woman With Lyme. Ergo, I apologize. In my own space.

Heck, apologizing can just be as tedious as whining.

Here’s a thought: Maybe, just maybe, if we all stopped apologizing we’d be more apt to accept ourselves as the flawed humans we are.

I have Lyme Disease which now explains all the niggling conditions I’ve had for the past few months.

As soon as I finish this I’m going to take my first dose of doxycycline and call it a night.



And I’m not apologizing for it.
...

Kathi B. is a writer and baker living in New England.




 

When Kids Can't Connect the Dots

One of my children has the unfortunate habit of screaming like a banshee when something has offended her, or her sister has teased her, or anything has angered or annoyed her in any way. The other one has the unfortunate habit of trying out different forms of insult humor, then throwing a tantrum when no one finds it funny. Then trying to pretend it never happened and opening up new conversation as if she hadn't just skewered her opponent, then crying about it again when her conversation partner isn't ready to move on yet.

Both things happened yesterday, and, at different times, in different situations, I explained to them that sometimes saying sorry is the best way to move forward. If the one's screams have offended all within hearing distance, and she wants to then play, perhaps a simple, "I'm sorry I lost my temper right then," would help pave the way to playtime. If the other snuck in a jab, then wanted to recover because she's embarrassed it wasn't funny, but was instead hurtful, an "I'm sorry I said that about you. I was just trying to be funny, but that was wrong," would probably move everyone along much faster.

But my kids think of apologies as punishment. It brings about a responsibility they don't feel toward their actions until it is uttered. And they don't like that. They don't yet see how apologizing is a necessary, and NICE part of life. That boulders can be moved with sincere apologies, and that those types of apologies make us better people, stronger people, happier people. That an apology is not just to assuage the offended but to offer greater insight to our characters.

Right now, apologies are still "gross". Whatever that means.

Anyway, last night, right before bed, I was able to get a legitimate and heartfelt apology out of the screamer. I felt proud and happy that she seemed to understand what I meant.

Until 7:30 this morning when she called me from my warm bed.

"Mama, I'm sorry I cried and screamed on our special date."

That "date" was a month ago and that "date" was not something to apologize for. In that instance, the screamer was legitimately distressed out of her mind because she was separating from her twin for the first time. At the time, I did everything in my power to comfort and distract her, and we eventually (after hours) had a good separate day.

What kills me about this is that instead of connecting an apology to the annoyance of or mistreatment of someone else, she connected it to her feelings.

I told her that wasn't something she ever needed to apologize for. That her crying in that instance was understandable and right and that she has a right to her very real feeling.

My heart broke though.

Apologize for the time you tantrumed when I didn't give you chocolate, or made you put on your seatbelt or brush your teeth or go to school on time.

Don't apologize for the one time you felt scared and helpless and alone.

...We have some work to do.