Sorry for What? Unlearning the reflex to apologize for competence, confidence, and taking up space

Unbeknownst to those around me, I was keeping an “unofficial” tally. I didn’t share the results with them, but I’ll share them here. Because, as women, it’s something we need to be aware of.

It was during my neighborhood's weekly Saturday morning pickleball gathering. Eight adults of varying ages (although skewed to retirement age) and an equal mix of men and women.

A friendly, social group that mixes healthy competition with laughter, encouragement, and a warm welcome to all who join, no matter their skill level.

A few weeks ago, I noticed a behavior that I found interesting—and today I was testing my theory.

The behavior: how often I heard the words “I’m sorry.”

Over the two hours, I heard those words when someone missed a shot. When a hard drive resulted in a ball that was impossible to return. When a slam shot landed near an opposing player.

Yet here is the telling finding: it was only the women who said they were sorry, not the men.

And as I observed, some of the “sorries” for missed shots or failures to call a shot were legit. But most of the “sorries” were being sorry for a brilliant shot, typically one that was hard hit and, by design, difficult to return.

It struck me: not only were the women saying they were sorry, but they were apologizing for their competence. For the hard drives. For the unreturnable shots.

Truth be told, I have noticed this behavior over and over and over again—in professional settings, in social settings, and with my female coaching clients at all levels of the organization.

Upon reflection, it really wasn’t all that surprising. Women are well-versed in the art of offering apologies, even when there is nothing to be sorry for.

For being too capable, too smart, too driven. For being competitive or goal-oriented. For taking up space—physical, social, and psychological. For having needs or setting boundaries. For dressing too “provocatively” or not being “put together.” For being too loud, too much, too needy.

It was a client who heightened my awareness of my tendency to apologize unnecessarily. She was a senior leader in a large company. Smart. Ambitious. Unafraid to call it like she saw it.

She had asked me to create a draft document on a Tuesday, with a review early Wednesday morning. I complied and scrambled to pull together my thoughts in the nick of time.As we met to review my work, I began with, “I’m sorry this is not more polished.” I outlined my key points, then said, “I’m sorry, but I saw what I think is a better way forward with this part of the work.”  And a few moments later, when she suggested an improvement, I replied with, “I’m sorry that I hadn’t thought of that.”

After the third “I’m sorry” in a matter of ten minutes, she paused, put down her paper and pen, and looked directly at me and said forcefully, “Stop saying you are sorry! I asked you to turn this within a day with very short notice. I expected a draft, not a polished product. I value your new ideas, that’s why you are here And there is no way I expect you to think of everything, that’s why we are working together.”

That conversation changed my perspective. Once I started to hear it, I heard it everywhere—from women of all different circumstances and in many different situations.

And more dismaying, from myself. Frequently. For things that I need not be sorry for. Saying that I was sorry was as reflexive as breathing.

I heard:

“Sorry to bother you…”

“Sorry, I’m not available.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Sorry, I’m overthinking this.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to take over…”

“Sorry, I’ve just been working on this a lot…”

“Sorry, I can’t talk about this right now.”

“Sorry, I don’t have the capacity today.”

“Sorry, I look tired.”

“Sorry, I haven’t had time to get ready.”

After my “awakening”, my coaching with female leaders changed. I often interrupt our sessions with every “sorry” uttered. And often, there are many. For some, “sorry” has become a verbal filler, like “um” or “ah.”

But “sorry” is not neutral, like “ums” and “ahs.” It is the taking on of a lesser position. It is subsuming your right to be there, to speak, to have agency, to ask, to shine.

Let’s be clear. There are times when a “sorry” or apology is called for—when there was an intentional misstep or an unintentional negative outcome. Those apologies are warranted and valuable, especially when offered with sincerity.

Instead, I’m calling attention to the reflexive and habitual propensity to attach the word “sorry” to moments when we are brilliant. When we have a request. When we take up space. When we show up as we are—either perfect or a hot mess.

What’s Underneath All of This

Face it. Women tend to be finely tuned to the social cues around them, spoken and unspoken. So these apologies aren’t random—they’re adaptive behaviors shaped over time and honed by our culture. They are a way we work to:

* Avoid conflict or retaliation

* Manage perceptions (“too much,” “too emotional,” “too assertive”)

* Preserve relationships in unequal power dynamics

It can be a superpower. And like most superpowers, there is an Achilles’ heel. Our social sensitivity builds others up and while diminishing ourselves. Conflict is mitigated through deference rather than dialogue.

If we don’t notice and claim our brilliance, why might we expect others to?

If we continue to apologize for things that we don’t own, why will others take responsibility for their own contribution to the situation?

If we continually diminish ourselves, why wouldn’t others take us at our word?

Start by Noticing

Perhaps you, too, will begin to develop an ear for the “inappropriate sorries”—the ones that are reflexive and offered without true thought. If you do (and I suspect you might), explore whether any of these are your motivations.

Is this a reflexive and learned behavior in which you are attempting to:

Shrink yourself

Be likable (even at a cost to yourself)

Put others’ needs first

Be perfect

Defer to authority, especially to masculine ego

Be everything to everyone

Avoid owning your own power, competence, or performance

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The Reframe

If you notice that you have fallen into the habit of prefacing sentences with “sorry,” you’ve taken the first step to breaking the habit.

The second step is to substitute another behavior. In this case, it’s frequently finding a more declarative and direct statement.

At first, these might seem bold or uncomfortable. Instead, they are clear, direct, and helpful.

For our words matter – they shape our reality. And new realities yield new perspectives and results.

This is not just a substitution of words. It is a shift in our identity, claiming our voice and our agency.

Here are some substitutions for "sorry".

Insead of sorry to bother you, ask Is this a good time for you to …

Instead of sorry, I’m not available, say That doesn’t work for me…

Instead of sorry, I didn’t mean to get upset, reply with I feel strongly about that….

Instead of sorry, I don’t have the capacity today, say Thanks for thinking of me. That doesn’t work for me….

Instead of sorry, I’m such a mess, you can say NOTHING and just get on with it!

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Repeat after me:

Your presence is not a problem

I can be real

My needs matter

I am already enough

I am allowed to expand

I will stop apologizing for things that require no forgiveness.

Closing Thoughts

The movie Love Story’s mantra was that “love means never having to say you are sorry.” I’m not sure that it’s true, but perhaps loving yourself means not having to say you are sorry so often—for things that are unintentional and inconsequential.

When you hit a winning shot, don’t apologize. Celebrate!

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