Every piece of media I consume lately, I’ve been analyzing the conflicts — and how well they get repaired.
That Bridgerton cliffhanger? No spoilers here but — there better be an impeccable apology coming soon. (I texted my therapist about it.)
Heated Rivalry? I’m only two episodes in (I know, I know) — but it’s already a masterclass in unspoken stories, unmentionable yearnings, unfathomable interpretations — a minefield for conflict, a bouquet of opportunities for repair.
All human interaction comes down to rupture and repair, rupture and repair. As Jia Tolentino put it, “We want to be human and we want to take care of (at least some of) each other, and yet we live in the grip of systems that incentivize nothing but dehumanization, and we are also personally terrible plenty of the time.”
So what happens when we inadvertently harm each other, accidentally slip into the too-worn patterns of dehumanization?
(Mind you: I’m not talking about choosing hate, here, not the on-purpose abuse we’re witnessing on colossal scales. I’m talking about the ones we do by a slip of tongue, a societal groove worn into each of us, despite our best efforts otherwise.)
We repair. We mend.
We apologize.
We’ve all had our fair share of bad apologies.
“I’m sorry you felt that way.”
“But I didn’t mean to!”
“I’m sorry, but…”
Perhaps we’ve even given some bad apologies — or run away without saying anything at all, when the shame of wrongdoing felt too catastrophic to face.
But a good apology?
A good apology offers the promise of amends.
A good apology connects us, rehabilitates us.
A good apology invites us into deeper belonging, safer intimacy.
A good apology is more than just “I’m sorry” — so much more, and sometimes, it doesn’t even require those exact words.
A good apology re-humanizes everyone involved — both the harm-doer and the harm-receiver.
We all participate in this deeply human dance of rupture and repair, rupture and repair — so let’s practice together.
I’m teaching a workshop on Saturday, February 14 — Valentine’s Day, a day for relationship of all kinds.
It’s called “How to Apologize.”
More on that soon.
In the meantime, save the date — before your dinner reservations, after your Galentine’s sleepovers — and feel free to hit reply with any questions.
