When “I’m Sorry” Isn’t Enough
Let me tell you about one of my wife and I’s recurring conflicts from a while back.
Alyssa is a responsible, on time person.
I am becoming one.
Earlier in our marriage, I would be going out with a friend.
“I’ll be home at 7:15,” I’d say.
In my head, what that meant was, “I could be home around 7:15.”
She’d hear: “He’ll be home at 7:15.”
Lo and behold, I’d lose track of time, and shoot her a text: “Running late. Home at 7:35.”
I’d get a short text back: “Okay.” The kind of short text when you know something’s wrong.
Then, I’d prepare a defense for when I got home. “I haven’t seen Luke in a while,” or, “We were in an important conversation.”
I’d step through the threshold of our apartment and ready myself for my explanation, which would, of course, never land the way I’d imagine.
Over the course of a conversation, she’d maturely explain to me the real issue: it didn’t show respect to her or communicate that I valued our time. She just needed an update sooner.
Her needs completely valid, my error entirely clear, I’d (eventually) offer two small words:
“I’m sorry.”
Why Repair Requires More
But what about the hurts that need more? What about when sorry doesn’t erase the sting?
In my work as a couple’s therapist, I’ve seen firsthand the difference true repair makes. The kind that actually heals what got hurt (or begins to), and brings couples into deeper connection than before.
It usually starts with some form of, “I’m sorry,” but it doesn’t end there.
In the stereotypical scenes of parents forcing siblings to apologize to each other, one sibling’s half-hearted apology is usually followed by a parent’s prodding of, “Sorry…for?”
There’s a hidden attachment principle reflected in that simple question: we can’t truly repair hurt that we haven’t first fully named, witnessed, and engaged.
This is why “I’m sorry” in many cases is critical but insufficient. It acknowledges some form of wrongdoing, but doesn’t offer curiosity or true engagement around the harm that was caused.
Engagement goes beyond, “Here’s where I was coming from.” It’s less focused on explaining our good intentions and cares more about understanding the impact we had, regardless.
It moves into the other person’s experience around what happened. It learns and owns our role. It carves out space to hear the meaning, impact, or importance of what happened.
It’s about “I’m sorry” and “I want to know what that was like for you.”
It matters because if our pain isn’t witnessed and heard, we struggle to move back into healthy connection. Without repair, the relationships we’re made for are threatened.
Five Questions To Ask
Here are five questions to consider asking when seeking to do repair:
Will you tell me about your experience of what happened?
What were you feeling when that happened?
What was the message or story my behavior communicated to you?
Is there more to this for you than I’m seeing now? (ex: a deeper history)
How can I can help you feel cared for now, or prevent this in the future?
The goal here isn’t to offer robotic or perfectly manicured scripts; it’s to offer language that allows us to engage well with the other person’s hurt.
It also isn’t automatically ignoring our side of what happened; it’s recognizing the time for sharing our point-of-view or intentions needs to come later, not at the beginning.
This, for many reasons, isn’t easy. For starters, many (if not most) of us did not grow up in homes where authentic repair was experienced or modeled.
We may fear if we make space for the other person’s experience, all we’ll get is attacked (rather than their vulnerability). Or, we might struggle to support ourselves through all the feelings that come with hearing how we hurt someone.
It also requires us to notice our natural tendencies towards defensiveness, offering explanations, or withdrawing when we learn we’ve hurt the ones we love.
I teach couples the acronym F-A-D-E to remember four impulses to avoid when responding:
F - Fix
A -Analyze
D - Defend
E - Explain
All of these are strategies that protect ourselves at the cost of the other person’s experience.
It hurts us when we hurt others. It’s hard to respond with care. And yet, we must.
Sending a Clear Signal
Ultimately, our imperfect efforts to listen to and validate the pain we may cause others are about sending a signal to those around us that says:
“I will be accountable for my actions and how they impact you, even when I didn’t intend to hurt you. You can tell me about how I’ve affected you, and even when it’s hard, I’ll be here to listen because I care about your feelings. Being connected to you is more important to me than being right.”
That’s why I’m now trying, failing, and trying again to offer more to Alyssa than, “I’m sorry.” (It’s why I’m also working hard to be on time. Both matter!).
The goal isn’t to never have ruptures, but to repair them when we do.
When done well, repair doesn’t just put back together what got torn apart.
It makes our relationships even stronger than they were before.