Want to be a strong person? Apologise.

Humility is strength in a world that likes to pretend to be strong by not being strong.  Those who cannot be strong insist on refusing to be humble.  They stick stubbornly to their guns and they regress all the while justifying their possession of “strength,” as if they need to prove it to everyone else when they’re trying most of all to prove it to themselves.

The humble person wastes no time in apologising where they’re wrong.  They see the truth, they see the harm they may have caused, they quickly hold themselves to account.  And they endear themselves to those they apologise to.  They win friends from would-be enemies.

It’s more important to the humble person to relate well with others and be fair than for them to be right.  Indeed, they prove their commitment to what is right by making right of their wrongs.  Whatever it costs.  They ensure where they’re the reason for unfairness that they quickly restore the scales of justice.  Humble people are instruments of vindication.

Want to be a strong person?  Everyone wants to present themselves as capable and confident, but will we prove mastery over true strength by not being conquered by our shame when we’re wrong?

Those who cannot or will not apologise for anything prove that they have no strength to admire.  They might think they’re strong, but if few others agree, what’s the point?

It’s better by far to think little of ourselves, to reject any desires we have for entitlement, to root out that toxin at every first sign of its presence.

Entitlement poisons relationships.  At a national level, it’s responsible for genocides.  At a personal level, it’s responsible for myriad silent abuses and traumas.

Genuinely apology could fix it.  Genuine apology is cut to the heart for wrongs committed, so much so that it sets plans into action that those wrongs aren’t repeated.

Genuine apology is the salve for healing relational hurts and there is no other way.

It’s too easy to gaslight the other and say, “Oh, there’s too much pain there!”  If you’re part of the cause of the pain, you have a role and a responsibility to reach forth in love to the other you’ve harmed in an attempt to relieve them.

If you don’t think you could have possibly harmed them, have you really empathised?  Be honest with yourself looking through their eyes, feeling with their heart.

Might it be that at the end of our lives we will face a Judge who will rate our lives according to the standard of our apology.  According to the amount of harm we did.  According to the apologies we made.  According to the healing we were part of.

Is it worth living any other way?

Truly strong people are able to be “weak” enough to say they’re sorry and mean it, strong enough to understand what they did, strong enough to be committed to do what they can to right those wrongs, strong enough to move in a different direction attitudinally and behaviourally, and strong enough to seek to be forgiven.  Understanding the depths of hurt caused is central to all this.