Your Apology Addiction

How politeness became your prison

Here’s your weekly free edition of Rewired.

This week’s topic : Your Apology Addiction.

You say “sorry” for things that aren’t your fault. For taking up space. For asking questions. For existing in a room.

You’ve been trained to shrink yourself before anyone asks you to.

Here’s what nobody tells you: Every unnecessary apology is you handing over power you didn’t need to give away.

Your guilt is their leverage.

Time to rewire that pattern…

You know that moment when you say “sorry” and realise you’ve done absolutely nothing wrong?

For not texting back immediately. For declining invitations. For having boundaries. For being unavailable. For prioritising your own life.

You’re not being polite. You’re trading your self-respect for approval.

About a year ago, I started tracking this pattern of saying sorry far too often. One day, I counted seventeen instances. For declining a meeting. For responding slowly to a message. For saying no to a request. For having other plans. For existing in a way that didn’t immediately serve someone else’s agenda.

Not a single one was deserved. Every one was automatic.

Here’s the thing: Each undeserved “sorry” is a transaction. And the price keeps going up.

The Programming

You didn’t wake up one day and decide to feel guilty for breathing.

This was installed in you.

Childhood drilled it in: “Say sorry.” For interrupting. For asking questions. For needing attention. For having needs. The response became reflexive, not intentional.

Society perfected the conditioning. Be agreeable. Don’t rock the boat. Take the blame first, ask questions later. Smooth over discomfort by accepting fault. Make yourself smaller so others feel bigger.

“Sorry to interrupt” in meetings. “Sorry to bother you” when asking for help you’ve earned. “Sorry for being difficult” when stating a simple boundary.

You’ve been trained to feel guilty for taking up space.

And the worst part? You don’t even notice anymore. The words happen before conscious thought. Before you’ve assessed whether you’ve actually done something wrong. Before you’ve considered whether guilt is warranted.

Your mouth surrenders whilst your brain is still processing what just happened.

That’s not politeness. That’s conditioning.

The Cost of Chronic Guilt

Every undeserved instance gives away something you didn’t know you had.

Watch what happens when you add “sorry” to a boundary:

“Sorry, I can’t make it” versus “I have other plans.”

The first asks permission. The second states reality. The first opens negotiation. The second closes the conversation.

“Sorry for the late response” versus just responding.

The first weakens your position before you’ve even started. The second respects both your time and theirs. The first suggests your availability is their right. The second treats response time as yours to manage.

“Sorry to bother you” versus stating your need directly.

The first treats your needs as burdens. The second acknowledges that needs exist. The first makes you small. The second makes you human.

Constant guilt isn’t making people like you more. It’s making them respect you less.

Respect comes from knowing where you stand. Unnecessary guilt creates uncertainty. If you’re always wrong, why should anyone take you seriously?

Chronic guilt is chronic powerlessness.

You’re training people that your time is negotiable. Your boundaries are flexible. Your needs are optional. Your existence requires their approval.

And they’re learning the lesson perfectly.

What Actually Deserves an Apology

Here’s the complete list of things that warrant one:

You caused actual harm to someone. You broke a commitment you made. You made a genuine mistake that negatively affected others.

That’s it. That’s the entire list.

Not being available 24/7 doesn’t make the list. Responding on your timeline doesn’t make the list. Having other priorities doesn’t make the list. Setting boundaries doesn’t make the list. Saying no doesn’t make the list. Taking care of yourself first doesn’t make the list.

Most people feel guilty for everything except the things that actually deserve it.

They surrender seventeen times a day for existing. Then when they genuinely mess up and owe someone real accountability, it carries no weight because they’ve devalued the currency.

Words mean nothing when you use them for everything.

The person who rarely says sorry but means it deeply when they do? That carries weight. That creates change. That rebuilds trust.

The person who says sorry constantly? Their words become noise. Background static. Meaningless sounds people learn to ignore.

If you’re always wrong for having boundaries, why would anyone believe you when you actually cross someone’s boundary?

Stop wasting accountability on things that don’t deserve it. Save it for when it actually matters.

The Boundary Connection

Every “sorry” attached to a boundary weakens the boundary.

“Sorry, I need to focus today” tells people your focus is something they can interrupt if they push hard enough.

“I’m unavailable today” tells people your focus is a fact, not a negotiation.

“Sorry, I can’t help with that” suggests you might be convinced otherwise if they make the right argument.

“That doesn’t work for me” closes the discussion before it starts.

“Sorry for being difficult” surrenders before the boundary exists at all.

“This is my decision” stands behind the boundary without retreat.

Watch what happens when you remove guilt from boundary-setting. The boundary becomes immovable. The statement becomes final. The other person has nothing to negotiate with.

This is uncomfortable. Especially if you’ve spent decades softening every boundary with guilt.

But here’s what I discovered: The people who got upset when I stopped were the exact people who’d been benefiting from my automatic responses.

They’d learned that guilt meant negotiation was possible. When I removed it, I removed their leverage. They didn’t like that. Some called me cold. Some called me selfish. Some disappeared entirely.

That wasn’t a loss. That was a filter working perfectly.

The people who respected my boundaries without requiring guilt? Those relationships got stronger. Because they never needed my compliance to respect my needs in the first place.

Your refusal to feel guilty for having boundaries isn’t rudeness. It’s self-respect.

And self-respect is the foundation for every relationship worth keeping.

My Own Awareness Audit

When I started tracking this automatic pattern, the awareness alone was disturbing.

I was apologising for everything.

For missing calls when I was in meetings. For responding within 24 hours when apparently that was “delayed.” For requesting something I’d earned the right to request.

I was surrendering for being unavailable, having priorities, existing with needs, and showing up with energy.

None of those things warranted guilt.

So I started the withdrawal. Catching myself mid-word. Stopping before the reflex completed. Replacing the surrender with a neutral statement or just… saying nothing.

The discomfort was real. Every instinct screamed that I was being rude. That people would be upset. That I needed to smooth things over.

I’ll be honest: I still catch myself. A year in, and the pattern still tries to resurface. That’s how deep the conditioning runs. But awareness is half the battle. Once you see the pattern, you can interrupt it. Once you interrupt it enough times, new patterns form.

This isn’t about perfection. It’s about noticing when you’re giving away your self-respect and choosing differently.

Most people didn’t even notice when I stopped. The guilt I thought was necessary for social functioning? They didn’t need it. It was serving MY conditioning, not them.

The people who did notice split into two groups:

Group one: Respected the directness. Appreciated not having to navigate my unnecessary guilt. Engaged with me as an equal instead of someone perpetually in the wrong.

Group two: Got angry. Pushed back. Tried to make me feel bad for not feeling bad. Called me difficult, cold, or said i’d changed.

Group two showed me exactly why the work mattered.

They’d been using my guilt as a control mechanism. My constant surrender made me easier to manipulate, easier to guilt-trip, easier to prioritise their needs over mine.

When I stopped apologising, I stopped being useful to them in that way. So they tried to reinstall the pattern by making me wrong for removing it.

I let them be upset.

Because their discomfort with my boundaries was data, not direction.

The Power That Returns

Here’s what changes when you stop feeling guilty for existing:

Your boundaries become stronger because they’re not wrapped in guilt. Your decisions become clearer because they’re not softened with unnecessary retreat. Your relationships become healthier because they’re built on mutual respect, not your constant deference.

You discover that most people don’t need you to surrender. They just need you to be clear.

“I’m not available” is clearer than “Sorry, I can’t.” “That doesn’t work for me” is clearer than “Sorry, I don’t think I can help with that.” “I need focus time” is clearer than “Sorry, I need to concentrate.”

Clarity without guilt is more respectful than guilt without clarity.

And the people who matter? They respect you more for it.

Your kids watch you set boundaries without retreating and learn that their needs matter. Your partner engages with someone who knows their worth instead of someone constantly seeking approval. Your colleagues negotiate with equals instead of people who’ve already surrendered.

You stop training people that your guilt is the price of their approval.

The Truth About Politeness

Politeness without boundaries is just performance.

You’re not being kind when you feel guilty for having needs. You’re being controllable. You’re not being considerate when you surrender to accommodate everyone. You’re being compliant. You’re not being respectful when you retreat for existing on your own terms. You’re being small.

Real politeness respects both people in the interaction. It doesn’t require one person to shrink so the other can expand.

Real consideration acknowledges that everyone has boundaries and needs—including you. Real respect sees equals, not someone constantly in the wrong.

The most respectful thing you can do is be clear about where you stand without drowning it in unnecessary guilt.

“I have other plans” respects both people’s time more than “Sorry, I can’t make it—I feel terrible about this—maybe we can reschedule—I hope you’re not upset.”

The second version turns a simple statement into an emotional hostage situation. The first version treats both people as adults who can handle straightforward communication.

Stop confusing guilt with politeness. They’re not the same thing.

The Accountability You Owe

There’s one piece of accountability that actually matters.

Not to the people who expected your constant guilt. Not to the ones who benefited from your automatic responses. Not to those who got upset when you stopped surrendering.

To yourself.

For all the years you felt guilty for taking up space. For the boundaries you weakened with unnecessary retreat. For the needs you treated as burdens. For the times you made yourself small to make others comfortable.

For teaching people that your self-respect was theirs to take by triggering your guilt.

That’s what deserves your energy.

And here’s the thing: You don’t say it. You live it.

You live it by setting boundaries without retreat. By stating needs without guilt. By existing on your own terms without asking permission.

You live it by letting people be upset when you stop giving away your self-respect. By respecting yourself enough that others learn to respect you too. By building relationships with people who never needed your guilt in the first place.

You live it by becoming someone who owns their mistakes deeply but refuses to own mistakes that aren’t theirs.

Who You Become

The version of you that stops feeling guilty for existing isn’t cold.

They’re not rude.

They’re not difficult.

They’re self-respecting.

This person knows the difference between harm caused and guilt installed. Between genuine mistakes and learned deference. Between accountability that rebuilds and surrender that weakens.

This person uses “sorry” like a surgeon uses a scalpel—precisely, rarely, and only when necessary.

And because they say it so rarely, when they do, it means something. It creates change. It rebuilds trust. It acknowledges real harm and commits to real repair.

You can’t be accountable meaningfully when you’re surrendering meaninglessly seventeen times a day.

The person you become when you stop feeling guilty for existing is the person who was always there. Under the conditioning. Under the guilt. Under the chronic deference.

You’re not becoming someone new. You’re removing everything that wasn’t you.

This work takes time. You’ll catch yourself slipping back into old patterns. That’s human. But awareness changes everything. Once you see how often you surrender unnecessarily, you can’t unsee it. And once you can’t unsee it, you can start choosing differently.

Stop retreating from that process. Start living it.

Your existence doesn’t require anyone’s approval. Not even your own guilt.

-Chris

P.S. I’ll be honest, the hardest part of writing this newsletter was catching myself wanting to soften the edges. That’s how deep the conditioning runs. But here’s the thing, this one needs to be direct, like a punch in the stomach.

I make no apologies for it’s harshness (pun intended).

If this newsletter made you uncomfortable, good. Discomfort means something’s shifting. ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​