I’m talking really, really upset. The type of upset where you want to slam doors, throw yourself on your bed, and sob wild, wonderfully pitiful tears. Except for the fact that I don’t normally do those things—other than maybe the door thing, that I might do.
But my point here is that being that upset and angry was a wakeup call. I realized that when I do the hurting, I really suck at apologizing.
Here’s what my door-slamming, wakeup moment caused me to realize: the apology is not about the person doing the apologizing. At least, it shouldn’t be.
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