I have never made my child apologize to someone else.

And please don’t misread that to mean that I ignored any offenses.  I didn’t. On the contrary, I always tried to be right there, ready to help, intervene, and problem-solve.  But the familiar refrain of, “You tell Johnny you’re sorry!” was not one that I ever uttered, for a few reasons.

First, an apology that is coerced is nothing more than empty words.  The words, without the feeling, are literally worthless.  I never want to give an apology (nor receive one!) that is not sincere.  And let’s face it…. sometimes you’re just not sorry.  Maybe you just need more time, and you’re not sorry yet.  Maybe you feel justified in your actions.  Maybe you’ll never be sorry.

Making someone say something they don’t feel is, to be really blunt about it, teaching them to lie.  And learning to lie about feelings is a slippery, slippery slope.

Second, a forced apology can cause even more resentment, escalate the situation rather than help diffuse it, and actually hinder the possibility of an authentic and sincere reconciliation.  I remember very well being a child, and being in a situation where I was just plain pissed off (usually at my sister), and told to apologize for whatever infraction I’d just committed.  I would be sorry later – I always was – but being made to apologize in that moment just made me more angry at my sister, more angry at the situation in general, and now carrying the added insult of being angry at the apology-enforcer as well.

Finally, forcing apologies takes away autonomy, and the owning of one’s emotions in a big way.  It is literally trying to tell someone how they should feel.  If there’s anything we should be able to feel ownership over, it should at least begin with our own feelings.  Our feelings are ours (or at least they should be!), in all their messy glory:  hurt, sadness, anger, joy, love, and yes, remorse.  One thing I have worked incredibly hard to learn, as an adult, is that my feelings are okay.  All of them.  I don’t want my kids to have to do that work as an adult.  I want them to be able to recognize and accept and embrace their emotions now.  Telling them how they’re supposed to feel is not going to help on that front.

I was on the receiving end of an apology today.  One that I’ve been deeply, deeply needing for the past 3 months.  It was a sincere one too, and even included a painfully honest, “I don’t like to admit that I’m wrong.”  An apology like that is a true gift, for both parties.  It’s a step – a really big step – towards healing, for all involved.  It’s a step towards reconciliation.  It opens a door to forgiveness, and to deeper, more authentic communication in the future.  It allows us to be human.  This literally happened two hours ago, and I have thought about nothing else since.  I did not yet accept the apology out loud  (mainly because I was too emotional and didn’t want to cry, and well, see my comment up above about still learning to own my emotions) but I absolutely DO accept it.  I do, with every fiber of my being… precisely because it was sincere. And right now, I’m sitting in a big emotional soup that includes feeling bad for bringing up the thing that preempted the apology in the first place, feeling glad that I brought up the thing that preempted the apology in the first place, but mostly feeling genuinely and deeply moved for being given that gift.**  There are so many “sorrys” that we never get, that we will never get, so the ones that do come?  The ones that are real?  I’m hanging on to them, and I’m treating them with the care and the reverence that they deserve.

Apologies aren’t something that should be taken lightly.  And they most certainly aren’t something that should be faked.  At the end of the day, this being-a-human-thing, this connecting-as-a-human-thing, leaves no room for falseness.  No room for force or coercion.  It’s about being real, right there in the moment.  Real with yourself, real with the other person, and real with your feelings.

I will always be there to help my kids navigate (kids who are not so little anymore, but still need their mom sometimes).  I will always be there to intervene when needed, to have the hard conversations, to share empathy, to model forgiveness, to walk beside them as they dredge through the joy and beauty and heartbreak and yuck that comes with human relationships… be they platonic, romantic, or professional.

But I will never, ever tell them how to feel.

**Update, a week later.  It turns out that the apology wasn’t as uncomplicated as I’d thought, and the giver is, at the present time, not my biggest fan.  The ironic thing is that I’d actually had every intention of making it a positive, happy resolution.  “Hey, thanks for the apology.  I forgive you.”  I must be the only one who can f*ck up something as benign as accepting an apology.  But I did.  I kept talking, and I made it bad, and now…. I dunno.  I still accept the apology, no matter what it meant or didn’t mean, because life is just too short.  And I still stand by this post, perhaps even more so.  This stuff is HARD, even for adults, and I think more than ever we have to be there for our kids, helping them figuring it all out, without forcing them to say things they don’t mean.  But dang.  Life is hard.**