“I only want to ride the wind and walk the waves, slay the big whales of the Eastern sea, clean up frontiers, and save the people from drowning. Why should I imitate others, bow my head, stoop over and be a slave? Why resign myself to menial housework?” These are the words of Triệu Thị Trinh, also known as Lady Triệu. At the age of 20, she raised 1,000 Vietnamese followers to rebel against China when they sought to conquer her homeland in the 3rd century. This quote was in response to her brother’s attempts to convince her not to revolt. She certainly wasn’t apologizing any time soon.
This post isn’t another piece blaming women for how they show up in the world. Maybe women apologize the appropriate amount, and men need to apologize more. Or, more likely, the answer is in the middle.
Women Have More For Which To Apologize
Women, in my experience, tend to apologize for taking up space more than anything else. The other day I was walking down the aisle at the grocery store. The aisles are reasonably wide, so there’s usually not a problem passing another person. As I was passing a woman, she immediately moved her cart and blurted out, “I’m so sorry.” The funny thing is, she wasn’t in my way at all. I was only passing her, not stopping or grabbing something.
She literally apologized for existing.
A study published in Psychological Science in 2010 revealed that women didn’t necessarily apologize more than men. Women self-reported committing more offenses for which they should apologize. Whereas men felt they committed fewer offenses. However, both men and women apologize roughly 81% of the time when they believe they have offended someone.
So, it’s not that women apologize more, it’s that they feel they have more for which to apologize.
I’m Sorry Is The New “Um”
For women, “I’m sorry” has become a filler word, to the point where it’s unnoticeable. Deborah Tannen has researched how conversations in the workplace play out. She notes in her book, Talking from 9 to 5: Women and Men at Work, that men want to maintain positional power, while women want to sympathize. The words I’m sorry are used as, what she refers to as conversational smoothers.
Women probably don’t feel sorry as much as they say I’m sorry. Just as “um” is a tiny break to give the brain time to think of the next word, or it releases some tension while giving a talk. But just as to be a better speaker, you have to give up the “ums”; women have to give up the unnecessary I’m sorry.
Women Are Warriors Too
So if sorry is the new ‘um,’ why does it matter if we say it too much? Because words have power. Apologizing for things they don’t require an apology, even if it’s a filler, can take a toll on our self-confidence. Even though we aren’t conscious of using the word, our brain is always listening.
We unintentionally send the signal to ourselves that we are taking up too much space, that we aren’t warriors. Offering an apology when you do something genuinely wrong is powerful and takes courage. Warriors do that. When we apologize for small things that don’t hurt others, we can lessen our impact at work and even within ourselves.
Instead, we should take a page from Pharaoh Hatshepsut’s book. The daughter of King Thutmose I became queen in 1479 B.C. when her husband died, and her son, Thutmose III, was an infant, too young to rule. What makes her story so compelling is that in 3,000 years of Egyptian history, she was only the third woman to reign as Pharaoh in 1473 B.C.
As queen regent, she found her powers were perceived less seriously as they would if she were a man. Therefore she made a strategic move and declared herself Pharaoh taking on the full privileges of power the position afforded her. What makes her special is her reinvention.
She took on the aspects of both male and female. She wore the traditional headdress of the Pharaoh, leaving her chest bare, and would wear the skirt of a woman, and the jewelry of both. Her strategy was to balance and embody both the masculine and feminine aspects to communicate to her subjects her mastery and ability to rule.
She was a cunning strategist above all. In some statues, she is portrayed as a traditional Pharaoh with dominant masculine attributes, while in others, she would be in traditionally female attire. She surrounded herself with supporters in key government positions.
Hatshepsut is one of Egypt’s longest and best rulers. The enormous memorial temple at Deir el-Bahri, her greatest achievement, is one of ancient Egypt’s architectural wonders. Her expeditions returned ivory, ebony, gold, and leopard skins to Egypt. After 15 years of ruling, upon her death in 1458 B.C., she was buried in the prestigious Valley of the Kings, probably having not apologized for a thing.
Here’s What You Can Say Instead
Don’t think of a big white elephant. Now, all you’re thinking about is a big white elephant. Instead of telling you to stop saying, “I’m sorry,” I’m offering alternative phrases. When you feel the urge coming on, use these as fillers instead. They convey confidence and pave the way for you to take up space.
Nothing. When I passed the woman in the grocery store aisle, she didn’t need to move or say anything. It doesn’t make you rude. Not every action of yours requires an apology.
“Excuse me” or “pardon me.” If you need to pass someone or you need something, there is no obligation for “sorry to bother you” or “I’m sorry, can I get by.”
“Do you mind if I…”. Instead of I’m sorry, are you using this bottle of ketchup that is sitting here doing nothing while you eat your pancakes? Ask for the bottle of ketchup. It doesn’t require a preemptive apology.
“I appreciate your time.” Don’t apologize for someone listening to you, even if you rambled. So what.
“Thank you.” If someone did you a favor and went out of their way, show appreciation rather than deference, I’m sure they were happy to help. Apologizing to them may make them feel awkward, or makes them question how you perceive them.
I understand the flip side of the coin. When women don’t apologize constantly, we run the risk of being seeing by others as cold or the dreaded B-word. Triệu Thị Trinh ultimately lost the war and committed suicide at 23. While her story ends grimly, her legacy remains one of being powerful and larger than life. She still led the people and made a convert of her brother. Hatshepsut’s son, it is thought, resented his mother’s powerful legacy so much that he attempted to have her erased from history. But, to paraphrase Maya Angelou, like ashes from the dust, she rose.
A warrior doesn’t apologize for the space they inhabit or the magnitude of their gift. And history shows, the smallness of others can not contain the greatness of warriors.
Sorry, not sorry.
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