Why I’m Not Sorry (and why you shouldn’t always be either)

This post is about why I’m not sorry. That’s right, NOT sorry. The last few weeks in Yoga Teacher Training, we implemented a rule called “No Apologizing” or #sorrynotsorry. As a society, we are constantly apologizing for things. Constantly. Some things we do are worth an apology, but some things are not. Ever have that awkward moment in a grocery store with someone where you both try to go around each other but go the same way and almost collide? I’m sorry, we tell strangers. Speak too loudly at a meeting? I’m sorry, you tell your co-workers. Tell the truth and hurt someone’s feelings? I’m sorry, you say. Running late to meet a friend for coffee? I’m sorry, you exclaim when you arrive. Drop something in front of someone? Forget something? Didn’t finish cooking dinner because you almost cut the tip of your finger off? (Wait, that’s just me). See where I’m going with this? Have you ever noticed how many times a day we are apologizing to others? I’m not saying being sorry is bad, or wrong. But, think about it this way.

“I’m sorry” makes it about you. Yes, you may feel bad, but what about turning that around to thank someone? Instead of “I’m sorry I’m late” try “Thank you for waiting for me” or “I really appreciate your patience.” Because the thing is, deep down, you’re probably NOT actually sorry you’re late. You’re probably not actually sorry you almost bumped into that other shopper at the grocery store- it’s not like you decided to go to the grocery store with the goal of taking people out in every isle. You’re not sorry you’re late- you didn’t plan to be. You’re not sorry you’re sick- you just can’t help that your body doesn’t feel good. You’re not sorry you spoke your truth- if your truth is the facts. You’re not sorry you stood up for what you believed in- it means something matters to you. You’re not sorry you got excited and took up most of the time at a meeting with your ideas- you wanted to share and make things better.

Try it next time you find yourself going to apologize for something. Maybe, you really are sorry. Or, maybe you don’t have a reason to be. Owning your shit can be powerful, one way or the other. So here’s mine.

I’m not sorry I didn’t do a “good enough” job at keeping in touch with the my (ex) friend after she moved to London- I did the best at could at one of the worst times in my life. I’m not sorry I didn’t do yoga teacher training where I was “supposed” to- I followed my heart, and it’s been freaking amazing. I’m not sorry for speaking my truth- I stand for something. I’m not sorry for being sensitive- it is a gift. I’m not sorry for not coming to meet your new baby yet- I’ve had a lot on my plate. I’m not sorry for cancelling my dietician appointments- I want a break. I’m not sorry I don’t see my husband enough to right now- I wish I did, but it doesn’t for a second mean I love and value him any less. I am incredibly lucky to be married to someone who supports me dreams, even if that’s meant going days without seeing each other. We both know its not forever. I’m not sorry I’m so stubborn sometimes when it doesn’t serve me- I am learning. I’m not sorry I didn’t text or call you back- I forgot. I’m not sorry I’m emotional- I’m human. I am not sorry for my flaws, or my mistakes when I didn’t know better.

Do not apologize for being yourself.
Replace the sorries with gratitude.

Thank you for making me aware I unintentionally hurt your feelings.
I appreciate your opinion, even though we don’t agree.
I’m thankful for the time I do get to spend with my husband, and am excited to be around more soon.
Thank you for showing me you care, even if I don’t agree with how it was presented to me.
I wish our conversation wouldn’t have went poorly, but it did, so how can we both move forward?
Thank you for continuing to reach out to me even when I don’t respond.
I appreciate you being patient and waiting for me when I’m late.

Gratitude is different than making excuses. Excuses make it about you too, just as much as “I’m sorry” does. Try it on. See if it feels different! I can say it’s helped me feel more connected to people, and more genuine. Us lil humans just want to be cared about, and band-aiding something with a thoughtless “I’m sorry” just doesn’t do the trick.

Epic Reflections

Two Novembers ago, I stepped into a space that changed my life and started on a journey I didn’t ever think I would be on. This is when I started my yoga journey, but it has become about so much more than that. In the New Year, I will be stepping out of that particular yoga space, but not before sharing with you what I have learned there.

I have learned that there is such a thing as sacred space. A space where I could go and drop all else, no matter what was going on in my life. Walking through the doors of the studio always lifted a weight off my shoulders. For the next hour, I didn’t have to do or be or think about anything, except my breath. Sounds crazy but when you suffer from anxiety and have an A.D.D. brain, it’s pretty dang comforting.

The sacred space made sense when nothing else did. When death and suicide struck, I came to my mat with anger and disbelief and tried to leave it in the space. Maybe just a little bit less of the pain would go home with me then.

The morning I discovered loss, I went to practice, grief-stricken, and cried my way through savasana, knowing I was in a safe place.

When abandonment visited, I threw my confusion and hurt onto my mat and into my practice, instead of into my life and at my body.

The times I felt life was hard and overwhelming and senseless, I went to that sacred space to remember to slow down, and be patient.

When I watched dear friends suffer, I wrote their name on a post-it before class, stuck it under my mat, and dedicated my practice to them. Maybe I could send them a little magic from the sacred space.

When I too, was tired of fighting, I got on my mat to remind me why I wanted to stay healthy.

My mat, a little yellow rectangle in a big rectangle room, became the space where I learned to breathe again. Yoga gave me the ability to sit and just be with myself. To drop my judgments, shame, and doubt- and just BE. I only get one me. Through recovery I’ve learned you can’t get away from yourself. On my mat, in that yoga studio studio, is where I finally accepted that. And then I finally began to live.

I learned that on my mat, I could go and meet God and the way I perceived Him to be. I learned that this yoga thing is actually a little piece of heaven, because yoga means union, and when you share this practice from a place of love, it is almost Holy.

“All is coming,” I wrote on my worn, dirty mat a year ago, and truly BELIEVED it.

All is coming.

Self acceptance. Maybe self love. Dreams. Life in color. The unconditional love of God in all the shattered places, if one is brave enough to bring their heart to their mat. Vulnerability.

I learned there are no broken people. That nothing is wrong with me. That nothing is wrong with others, and we all just want to be heard and understood.

The truest version of myself. The most light filled version of myself. The self that I can believe is enough, exactly as I am.

Be a Stand

I was 12 when I figured out I could throw away my lunches at school so I didn’t have to eat. I was 14 when I figured out I could make myself throw up after eating so I didn’t feel like I had food in my stomach. I was 15 when I told my Bible Study leader what I was doing. Until I was 25, I never again told anyone about my disordered eating and exercise habits. Starving myself and getting “rid” of food by purging or exercising excessively was empowering- as long as I did that, I had some control of what I felt like in my body, and an effective coping mechanism. My Bible Study leader told me that what I was doing wasn’t good, and that she wanted me to call her every evening and tell her that I hadn’t been using those behaviors. I was 15 when I figured out that lying to her over the phone, and occasionally face to face, wasn’t hard.

Not too long ago, I got a friend request on Facebook from my former Bible Study leader. I absentmindedly accepted, and later that day messaged her on Facebook, simply saying “Hi S!” She wrote me back. “Hello sweet friend,” it read. “I think about you all the time. Hope you are doing well…God loves you and so do I!”

A thousand emotions flooded me. Ones from my 15 year old self who had confided in someone she trusted, unsure of what she was looking for. Ones from my 20 year old self, after being caught by a family member throwing up in a restaurant bathroom, wondering why she hadn’t stopped all those years ago when someone told her to. Ones from my 22 year old self as I stopped eating during the day to justify having drinks with friends later, but forget the memories. Ones from my 24 year old self as she ran on greenways for hours and pounded away at the gym, searching for something she would never find. Ones as a 26 year old in rehab, realizing that she had spent over half her life living to die. Ones from my 28 year old self when I wrote her a letter I knew I would never send, telling her I wish things would have been different. That I wish she would have told someone, instead of trusting a hurting, insecure teenage girl to stop going down the dark hole that had ahold of her. That I would have hated her at the time; but looking back now, I would have given anything to have started the recovery process sooner. And even now, as my 30 year old self sits here, part of me paralyzed with fear that I will spend the rest of my life with pieces of myself entrenched in my eating disorder.

They say that hindsight is 20/20. That it’s easy for me to sit here and write that I wish someone had “made” me get help. Whose to say I would have listened? Whose to say it would have made a difference? What would my family have done? And if I didn’t take the path I did, what would my life look like now? I married an amazing man and I love him more than I thought was possible to love someone. I have the best friends anyone could ask for. They are my family. I’m going to be a yoga teacher. I have a great relationship with my parents because of all that we’ve been through.

I say all this because I have a message for you. Maybe you are someone who is struggling- not necessarily with an eating disorder. Depression. Anxiety. Bullying. Suicidal thoughts. Hopelessness. Shame. An addiction. An invisible illness. Maybe you are a family member who knows someone, but is afraid to say something. Maybe you are a friend who is concerned. Maybe you are the actual sufferer.
My message to you is this…please don’t waste any more time.

Be a stand for the person you love; for yourself. We always, always think we have time. Do it now. Be brave now. Say it now. Help them help themselves. In the end, I promise you the only regret you will have is the time you let go by watching someone destroy themselves. An eating disorder has a function- a really good, effective one actually. Depression has a function. Anxiety has a function. An addiction has a function. And suicidal thoughts can become actions. But whatever function a mental illness has, will not serve someone long term. Eventually it will stop working. It will take and take without a person realizing what they have lost.

I hear a lot of people say that they wouldn’t trade their experience with a mental illness (specifically an eating disorder) because it’s made them who they are, and they are proud of that person. Honestly, I’m not there yet. I wish I could smile and say that I love the person I’ve fought to become. That I am grateful for what I’ve gone through because it has led me to where I am now.

But I can’t say that.
It’s shameful to admit.
Because you can’t live in the past. I know I am 100% responsible for the life I create. There is no one to point fingers at, to blame, to look to and say they could have changed me. But I can’t help but wonder what my life would have been like if at 15, someone would have stood up against the darkness that was swallowing me.

I am endlessly grateful for the people I have in my life now.
Everyday I am in awe of God’s plan.
I am so glad it is better than mine.
I don’t believe that the good things in life diminish the bad things. And the bad things don’t ruin the good things. That’s just life; we are just human, and we are broken; but at the same time broken is beautiful.
And it is human to wonder.
To second guess what my have been.
So give someone that gift. Or give it to yourself.
Love is not just words but actions.
Be a stand.
You don’t ever know what it could mean.

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