You Apologize Too Much

The other day, I opened the fridge and was greeted with a thin layer of ramen broth on 2 shelves, plus a bonus puddle at the bottom of the produce drawer.

My sweetie-pie had set the box on its side, not realizing the drippy-drop, broth-based consequences that would ensue.

I cleaned it up, moved the container upright to another shelf, and later mentioned to him, "The ramen was leaking a bit. I cleaned it up, but now it's on the shelf by the milk." 

He apologized, seemingly frustrated with himself. And that was that. But later, I kept thinking about it.


That “I’m Sorry” Wasn’t About the Fridge.

It was a reflex. A script. A deeply ingrained pattern that so many of us carry, especially if we were raised to make things smooth, small, and safe for others.

We say “sorry” when we’re late. When we interrupt. When we speak up. When we cry. When we have needs. Even when no one is upset and nothing is wrong.

Not because we’ve actually done harm, but because we were taught that harm could be assumed unless we shrink ourselves first.


Your Apologies Are Old Stories Talking.

The more I’ve worked with clients on identity coaching, the more clearly I see this pattern: We are responding to life from earlier versions of ourselves. Versions shaped by expectations, survival mechanisms, and outdated narratives about our worth.

And one of the loudest, most persistent voices in that inner chorus is the one that says: “Don’t be a burden. Say sorry first. Stay small and likable.”

But here’s what the science tells us:

  • Chronic guilt and shame activate the same parts of the brain as physical pain (Eisenberger et al., UCLA).
  • Repeating self-blaming language, even in small, daily exchanges, wires your neural pathways to associate your presence with harm or disruption.
  • On the flip side, gratitude increases dopamine and serotonin, boosting resilience and reducing stress. It reinforces connection, safety, and trust, not just with others, but within your own nervous system.

So when we shift from “I’m sorry” to “thank you,” we’re not just making the interaction better. We’re quite literally rewiring our brain for trust, not tension.


Gratitude > Guilt. Every Time.

Try it:

🌀 “Sorry I’m such a mess.” ✨ becomes: “Thank you for loving me through it.”

🌀 “Sorry I forgot.” ✨ becomes: “Thank you for your patience.”

🌀 “Sorry I needed help.” ✨ becomes: “Thank you for showing up for me.”

Gratitude doesn’t diminish accountability. It amplifies connection.

It doesn’t shrink you into guilt. It invites you into grace.


Tiny Shifts. Massive Impact. 

That moment in the kitchen didn’t feel big. But my awareness of it, the decision to stay curious instead of dismissive, that's the muscle I’ve been building with my clients.

This is identity work. It’s not about becoming someone else. It’s about noticing who you’ve been trained to be, and choosing, moment by moment, whether that version still serves you.

So the next time you feel an apology bubbling up, pause.

Ask: Is this coming from truth… or from habit?

You don’t have to correct it out loud. But even quietly, in your own mind, you can offer yourself a rewrite:

Not “I’m sorry for being human.” But “Thank you for letting me show up as I am.”

That tiny shift is where the new story begins. One where you don’t owe anyone your shame, but you do deserve your own grace.


If you’re ready to explore what else might be possible with a few bold rewrites, I offer free 30-minute Dream Out Loud calls. No pitch, no pressure, just a conversation to help you hear your own voice again.

📅 Link In the Comments Below 

Let’s figure out what story you’re ready to live into next.

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