I remember it like it was yesterday, the moment I felt the power of the word “sorry”.
As soon as it came out of my mouth, the tension in the room melted, my heart warmed to a glow and my husbands’ face softened enough for me to see the sadness behind the anger that had flared only seconds before. He then lent towards me and said softly “it’s OK”, like he really meant it and gave my hand a squeeze before quietly leaving the room.
I was dumbfounded. Could it really be that simple? Did one word have the power to transform anger into love just like that?
My “sorry” was genuine, of course, so I knew he hadn’t just heard the words, he had felt them too. But still, it was just one simple word with only 5 letters in it, and yet the effect was instant! Not only was he soothed, so was I. My system was glowing. I felt a kind of weird elation like I had just discovered the power of a well-kept secret.
And here’s the thing, when I uttered the magic word, I knew I had done nothing wrong. In fact, when he had thrown his anger at me, there was a moment of disbelief. My heart had even started to pound and my muscles to tighten, as if I were preparing for battle.
But then something happened. I paused for a second and looked into his eyes. I saw his anger and felt his pain. I understood in that moment, that the cause was deeper than anything I could have done. And I felt truly sorry. Not sorry for my actions, but for all the experiences in his life where his radiance had gone unseen. And then the word just came out of my mouth. “Sorry” I said and like magic, the anger melted and we both laid down our arms.
As I stood in the room alone, reflecting on what had just happened, I was struck by how that brief pause had changed everything. In that moment, I had chosen to love, not to defend. And my intention had been felt. Far from feeling wronged, I felt like a Jedi Knight with a new found superpower.
Did I decide later to go and tell my husband that, although I was sorry, I had actually been wrongly accused? I could have. His anger had gone and my truth would no doubt have been heard. But I didn’t. Only because it no longer mattered to me. I was too busy marveling at the power of “sorry”.