Getting good at apologies
Posted: Tue Aug 05, 2014 10:16 am
This showed up today at the blog for one of my big-time favorite apps, Unstuck:
How good do you feel like you are at making an apology? What have your challenges with that been? And what do you feel like you need, if anything, to make making earnest apologies easier and more comfortable for you?
What do you feel like an apology gives you when someone else makes one to you? What does apologizing feel like it gives you when you do it?
Read the rest here: http://unstuckcommunity.tumblr.com/post ... NewsletterIn the best of times, it’s hard to admit you’re wrong. There’s nothing like digging into a piece of humble pie to remind you that — even if you’re a hot-shot, a genuine smarty-pants, or the nicest of nice guys — you still make mistakes. And, in a society that insists we all have to be the best and the brightest, apologizing can feel like an unbearable admission of weakness. So, instead of admitting our fault, we deny, counterattack, make excuses, or simply pretend it never happened.
But at what cost?
Think back to a time when you could have apologized but held back. The apology stuck in your throat for whatever reason, and — because the hurtful or offensive act was never corrected — the grievance persisted, tainting your own quality of life and/or the other person’s. When left ignored, a small scratch can even become a deep wound. And, what’s worse, by stubbornly clinging to our own righteousness (even in the face of another’s pain), we fray the bonds of safety and trust that make our world livable.
For example:
• We signal that we don’t value the relationship — or the other person — leading to loss of trust, love, and respect.
• We make the injured person wonder if it’s their fault, or if their suffering is even worthy of notice. This can stunt a person’s sense of self — and possibly cause the hurt to be paid forward, like this girl who was bullied and then became a bully in turn.
• We sacrifice our own integrity, breeding a guilty conscience and hacking away at our own self-esteem.
• And, if the act of wrongdoing violates a social code of conduct — backbiting in the office, for example — we might slowly find ourselves marginalized and wonder why (think L.A. Clippers’ owner Donald Sterling, whose non-apology after the leak of his racist comments only made the situation worse).
APOLOGIZING IS A POWERFUL ACT
Fear-based thinking leads us to believe that apologies are a sign of weakness: We’re scared to face the world without our armor. But, by letting our pride stop us from making amends, we narrow our universe and (unwittingly) disempower ourselves.
A sincere apology releases you from the burden of being infallible, and the chain reaction that results can be truly inspirational. You demonstrate that your relationship is more important than being right. You release the injured party from pain. Your apology can reverse the tide of hurt and anger, smoothing the path for forgiveness and healing in a relationship, according to a 2014 study by the National Academy of Science. Instead of closing yourself off with negative thoughts, your apology reopens the door to human connection.
It takes courage and a secure sense of self to be able to check your ego at the door — and that’s something of which to be truly proud.
How good do you feel like you are at making an apology? What have your challenges with that been? And what do you feel like you need, if anything, to make making earnest apologies easier and more comfortable for you?
What do you feel like an apology gives you when someone else makes one to you? What does apologizing feel like it gives you when you do it?