What’s in an Apology?
A Psychologist’s Perspective
By Someone Who Listens for a Living
National Sorry Day is a powerful moment—especially for Indigenous people and survivors of the Stolen Generations. It can feel massive, even distant, when we think about it on a national scale. But one meaningful way to connect with the heart of this day is to reflect on our own families and communities. Where are the apologies still needed? Where can healing begin, even in small, personal ways?
We’ve sat across from people of all ages, backgrounds, and belief systems—each carrying a different story, but often echoing the same pain. The need for an apology. Or the weight of one that hasn’t been given. Or the ache of knowing they owe one themselves. In therapy, this shows up again and again—not as a side note, but as a turning point.
Some wait decades to hear “I’m sorry.” Others whisper it through clenched jaws, hoping it’s enough to set something inside them free. And some are only just learning that they can—maybe must—apologize to themselves.
Apologies are often dismissed as words, but I’ve watched them become breakthroughs. I’ve seen someone forgive a father who never said sorry, simply by saying the apology they wished they’d heard out loud. I’ve watched someone else move forward only after they owned the harm they caused, even when the person they hurt would never forgive them. Apologizing isn’t about controlling the outcome. It’s about owning your impact. It’s about emotional accountability.
Many of us resist apologies because we think they shrink us. That saying sorry admits failure. That it gives power to someone else. But in reality, apologies—when genuine—are acts of courage. They say: I value our humanity more than my pride. They build internal alignment. They make room for growth.
And then there’s the apology to self, the one so many never think to give. The one for staying too long, for breaking your own boundaries, for silencing your voice. Saying “I’m sorry” to yourself can be the beginning of healing—not weakness, not self-pity, but recognition. You can’t move forward if you’re still punishing yourself for surviving the only way you knew how.
So what’s in an apology? Power. Vulnerability. Honesty. Grace. Sometimes it’s the thing that keeps us stuck. And other times, it’s the key that finally opens the door.
If you’ve been waiting for one, or need to give one, maybe this is the moment to ask yourself: what’s holding me back?
