I am NOT sorry

Why are we always saying sorry? And why we need to stop. 

I am a confident woman.

I am confident that I’m beautiful.

I am confident that I’m hard working.

I am confident that I am moody.

I am confident that I am stubborn.

I am confident that I know myself. 

I am confident that I like who it is that I am.


It hit me as I found myself repeating the same directions to someone for the fifth time because she didn’t have the patience to take out a map or listen. “Sorry, no, you need to take a right blah-di-blah…” (For reference I gave directions).

I was given a glowing recommendation and the first thing that came out of my mouth was, “Sorry, but if that isn’t praise, I don’t know what is.”

A friend and I made an epic video and there was me going, “I’m sorry, but we are just tooooo cute.”

Someone put me down because they weren’t feeling too hot about themselves, and I brushed it off with “Sorry, I don’t think what I said came across right.”

A guy bumped into me yesterday and I said “Sorry!” *charming smile* *giggle* *return to charming smile*

The f*ck?

When did I become this person that needs to say sorry?

Unapologetically, it’s probably because I moved to the UK. The land of polite sorry’s.

It’s pretty clear that I’m not from here. It’s not just my accent that sets people off. It’s more in the way I move, shoulders pressed back, flouncing about like I own the place. Not because I do. Not because I think I do. But because this space, as much as it is yours, is mine. Because here’s the thing, I am fabulous. And the only way I’ll make you think I’m fabulous, is if I believe that I am.

 “You’re so American,” I’m told.

Last I checked, that’s a fact. And you know what, nobody ever told me there was something wrong with being who I am. I am not perfect. I’ve been brutally told I am unattractive when I judge people. I am. I’m ugly. And that’s something I need to work on. But the truth is, I’m not looking for everyone to like me. I don’t need that. I just need the people who matter. Because those are the people who will let me be me, and they will automatically make me better.

Now here’s the truth, I get intimidated. You may not be able to tell, but I do. It’s the worst feeling. There are people who always have me on edge. It’s embedded in my gut. But then I think, do these people actually matter? Is my gut going through necessary trauma? Is it?

I struggle with people who lack self-confidence or have no clue of their worth. Because if there is one thing I’ve learned about being with someone, a friend or a love, it is that I am NOT his or her other half. No matter what I do, no matter how much support I provide, no matter how many times I lift them up, it is up to them to make themselves happy, and to love themselves. I can complete them as a partner, but I have no control over their feelings. They are in charge of their own happiness, just as I am in charge of mine.

~Don’t light yourself on fire trying to brighten someone else’s existence~

If you ever hear me tell myself “I’m fabulous,” don’t scrunch your nose and ask if I really need to make an exclamation out loud. Don’t inquire about me being insecure. Just join in! Because people are very good at putting each other down. Focus on constantly reminding yourself of how great you are (because you are), and you will find you won’t have time to worry about how you compare to others which, quite frankly, is such a waste of your headspace and a clear indicator of people who shouldn’t matter to you. Trust me when I say everyone is too busy thinking about themselves. Case in point when someone puts you down to big themselves up.

Now, knowing your worth is by no means a free pass to be arrogant. There is a difference between entitlement and confidence. Being great doesn’t equate to being better than others. Remember, your greatness has nothing to do with anyone.

So unless you have truly made a mistake, there is no real reason for sorry to escape your lips. That’s why it’s curious to me why we swing around words like sorry or love. If words didn’t carry meaning, we’d still be drawing pictures like back in caveman times.

I guess the point is, I am not sorry. I’m not sorry you can’t grasp what I’m saying because you aren’t concentrating. I’m not sorry I worked my butt off to receive that recognition. I’m not sorry we have charisma that’s hard to come by. I’m definitely not sorry for you clumsily bumping into me. And nope, I’m not sorry I pick myself up every day, either by striking a power pose or through verbal affirmation.

I’m just sorry my brain can’t connect fast enough to my mouth. That, and the fact that I have trouble with silence. But hey, I’m not perfect. I’m me.