Apologize: [uh-pol-uh-jayz] v. 1. To offer an apology or excuse for some
fault, insult, failure, or injury. 2. To express remorse of regret. Our conversations are filled with words of inconveniences, of misread scenes, of unnecessary apologies. We apologize for our interruptions, wishing we could turn back time and erase the problem we caused. Sometimes we thin about how we apologize, but most of the time we barely even know the word “sorry” is coming out of our mouths.
Too often, I find myself, over and over again, mumbling this sincere yet devious five letter word. Most of the time it’s because I accidentally ran into you in the hallway or accidentally spilled my drink on your papers, and that’s okay (or at least it is with me). Those times when I am quick to say “sorry” are to sincerely apologize for what I did wrong. However, sometimes, I apologize for the way I am. I degrade myself to a lower position, believing that I am not good enough, and for that very moment, I am sorry about who I have become. I will say “I know, I’m sorry,” when you mention my emotions, I cry over anything and everything: ranging from puppies, to dinner decisions, to the deaths of people I didn’t get the chance to meet. I never truly acknowledge that it is something I will have to deal with for the rest of my life. Yet this makes me who I am.
I have begged pardon my whole life. Now is my time to stop- to stop worrying about how my dreams, my emotions, and my looks could become insulting to others. I will not be sorry for the little quirks that make me, me.
I am not sorry. I do not have a perfect figure. I write essays for captions and post an abundance of sunset pictures. I have been depressed. I am infatuated with people’s stories. I love Jesus. If you challenge me while I work out, I will do it. Otherwise I’ll just sit there and tell you “I can’t”. I will insta-stalk you, your sister, her boyfriend, and his older cousin just to see what college she goes to. I get really excited over little things. I store everything inside, letting it build up to the day I explode. I eat a lot; I actually really love food. I’ll spend all my time on Pinterest, pinning recipes and life tips I will never look at when I need them. I see myself differently than you might and maybe that’s okay. I hold onto grade and truth. I tell myself that I am enough. I am not sorry.
My apologies, my faults should no longer define me, neither should yours. There will come a day when we look back and realize how stupid we were for constantly killing our self-esteem with each apologetic phrase. I hope, for you, that day will not be in your late 80’s. I hope that day will be today. I hope today is the day when you can make up your mind and choose joy in your flaws. I hope you can find pure, beautiful joy in your insecurities, your rejections, in your being. I hope you can find peace through not having to ask forgiveness for who you are. I hope you can carry this with you: that you are enough and you are not sorry.

thank you, Hannah. inspired by the original unapologizer, Hannah Brencher

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