I’m Sick of Apologizing for Being Me

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Saying “I’m sorry” is something I’m quite familiar with. So much so, that when I was in eighth grade, a mentor of mine recommended that I wear a rubber-band around my wrist and smack it whenever I say “sorry.”

Suffice to say, it didn’t work. (And ouch, by the way.)

Life before my daughter was filled with “I’m sorry’s.” But now, those apologies have doubled.

apologizing

My work has been amazing to allow me to teach part-time in order to spend mornings with my daughter. But, wait, I’m sorry that I missed the meeting I told you that I couldn’t make. I’m sorry that I can only plan, grade, and teach during the hours that are assigned in my contract. I’m sorry that I prioritize my family over my job.

Daycare is another beast, too. I know that I was supposed to fill my daughter’s snack bag with veggies for the day. I’m sorry that they’re sugar-filled snacks. I’m sorry that I’m happy she’s eating anything right now. I’m sorry that I didn’t do her hair today or that her clothes are mismatched. I’m sorry that she has a big bump on her forehead from trying to walk for the first time.

And friends? That’s another ship that I’m allowing to sail. Oh, thanks for the invite for a night out. Sorry I can’t make it. I’d rather watch the show Love on Netflix whenever I have an hour or two to myself. Sorry that I’d would rather surround myself with family who knows all my issues.

What about my love life? Babe, today I wore an old pregnancy dress just because it felt comfortable in this post-pregnancy body. I’m sorry … I am not feeling it. May we call it a night until I buy a new outfit at Target?

So here’s my formal apology: I’m sorry for changing.

I’m sorry for being a woman who would rather spend time with her husband and daughter than master a social life outside of that. I’m sorry for figuring out how to juggle my job and my new life as a mom. I’m sorry that I’m figuring out how to feel in my new body (even a year after giving birth).

I’m sorry that I prefer silent activities like yoga and meditation, listening to music on Spotify, or writing on my blog than going out for drinks at 8 p.m. I’m sorry that my current job doesn’t dictate my main life goal of wanting to raise a happy, functional, and incredibly independent daughter.

And, I’m sure there are other apologies, but I’ll be honest: I’m sick of apologizing for who I am instead of who you thought I was.

Thanks for understanding.

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Brighid
Brighid was born and raised in Tempe with her two brothers and two sisters. As the fourth of five children, she's very aware how her first-born Welsh husband, Adam, and first-born daughter, Brynn, will play the role of the "smarty pants, know-it-alls" in her family. Joking aside, Brighid has a degree in creative writing with a minor in classics from U of A and received her M.Ed from ASU in secondary English education. As a part-time humanities teacher at ASU Preparatory Academy in downtown Phoenix, Brighid focuses on drama, computer science, media and technology, as well as journalism. She's passionate about dancing with the "Beatbugs" alongside her daughter, AZ road trips, Spotify playlists, Anna Faris podcasts, modern astrology, and shaktipat kundalini yoga. You can find more of her work and professional writing on her blog The Seagoat Mama.

1 COMMENT

  1. As a recovering over-apologizer, I can totally relate. When I quit my previous job a couple weeks ago, I literally practiced how I was going to word my verbal and written resignation so as to be sure NOT to apologize. It’s work, but it’s so incredibly freeing when you reframe your language to abandon the apology. I’m in your corner, mama! Do you!

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