Lessons on Saying Sorry

As we close up 2019, I am once again at a point where I feel compelled to collect feelings compiled from the year. Needless to say, 2019 has been an eventful year. In the year of 2019, I have (in no particular order)....

1. Officially completed over a year of working for the folks
2.  Switched rinks to a place where I feel comfortable coaching
3. Added new toys to my possession, albeit at a price tag that may not fully justify it's use
4. Noticed increases in credit card bills on a monthly basis
5. Come back full circle in realizing that I have spent too much money unnecessarily
6. Completed some pretty challenging but fun freelance work, of that I have to count my blessings
7. (This one is a first world problem) Skipped out the first year of my US travel visa 
8. Pissed off quite a lot of people, including myself (and as a result)
9. Cried bucket loads of tears in frustration, bitterness, and everything else in between
10. Attempted (failed, and am still struggling) being plant based 

I am an avid believer in going through the process. 

Over the years I have observed that the only way to becoming better, is to be dragged through the mud. Through my own experiences, I began to understand what they meant by "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger". This year, I found myself using the next example quite often when talking about change. I once read that the process of change/improvement is like dealing with clay. Before you can mould the clay, you have to pick it up, throw it down a few times, so that the clay becomes compact. Whether it is about policy, governance, career, or even lifestyle. There has to be that rough stage before things can begin to take shape/form. 

It took a while to come to this explanation. In fact, it was not until I was introduced to Gary Vaynerchuk (Gary Vee, I'm sure most of us know who he is) that I could put these thoughts into words. When I watched the clips on his Instagram, the words he spoke rang a bell. He speaks often of "the process", and how things have to progress, that they take time. But he also emphasizes that you have to "be able to eat shit" before you can even begin to see the fruits of your work. Granted, he refers mostly to careers (which most of us struggle with), but seeing how work IS inevitably a part of life, he means life. 

On midnight of 2019, I was nursing an awful migraine, soothing myself to sleep as fireworks went off around me. If you've ever had a migraine, you would know that you'd be ultra sensitive to any light, sounds, or smells. There I was, in that awful state, but I told myself that when I woke up, it'd be a new day, and that I could strive to a better me. I was not wrong. This year was a tough year of dealing with my emotions, my socials, my finances, and my life choices. For starters, I was about 4 months into my current job working for my folks, but disliking every minute of it. On top of that, I had to do the ONE job among many others that held the title of "sales". A post that I absolutely dislike, but have to do. To make matters worse, using my acting skills, I was able to rake in a considerable amount of sales, much to my surprise and dismay (that means that I was "good" at what I was doing, even though I did not necessarily like it). This got worse around the middle of the year, where I realized that I really did not like my job. Because you see, my real love is acting, with a set and crew, plus a script/story. Not only did I know deep down in my heart that I did not like it, but my body was beginning to reject it. I was getting sick often, or be overcome with exhaustion, but would still force myself to get out of bed. Day in, day out. Week after week, month after month. 

Part of the process, is the heartbreak

It was also around this time that I reconnected with someone who I had lost touch with. To make referencing easy, we shall name said person M. We lost touch because I felt that my disagreement to one of their choices. The discussion became too heavy, and in a moment of disagreement, the phone call was disconnected, and left that way until I was invited out for dinner. It felt like the perfect timing, as one of my closest friends had just moved back to the US for her PhD program. I had always admired this person for their ability to give up a dream job for many, to start something of their own. I was also constantly amazed at this person's intelligence, and ability to articulate that made the person so easy to talk to. We were hanging out often, as if to make up for all that lost time. At one point, I even opened up about my work, and how suffocated I felt. I even broke down in front of others as it was such a low time.

But, like any and everything, there was a breaking point. The breaking point was when, in a moment of panic, I was removed from this person's communication. Completely cut off and removed like a piece of trash. The details leading up to the breaking point are personal between the both of us, so shall remain as such. But long story short, I felt disrespected, thus disappointed in a person who I saw so highly of. So, in response, it felt like the rest of the world was also against me. Oh, and did I mention, that work was not exactly great? It could've just been me, but it felt like office politics were beginning to get heavier around the same time. 

In anger, I went to work. In anger, I showed my fangs and bit back when I felt like those around me were being disrespectful. In clear earshot of others, I raised my voice in anger as I trembled and bellowed at one colleague. In anger, I mistook another colleague's mocking, and hurt the person emotionally when I spoke up against it. In the moment, I spoke up against injustice, but in retrospect, it may not have been my place to do so. Both of these colleagues of mine were people who had known me since I was in my pre-teens. Both made upset by me, in a span of a week. As a ripple effect, I managed to upset two others. 

Needless to say, I was angry. Really angry. 

The key is to STOP feeling sorry for yourself

For the next few weeks, I went to work and through life, just sad. I went to work, like a zombie. Day in, day out. Silence. No laughing, no interacting, no smiling, no chit chat. I felt dead on the inside. After work, I'd go home, avoid talking to my family, and just crying in bed. Next morning, repeat. I was barely getting acting jobs, for good reason. I was burnt out, and looked like the walking dead. I needed the time to just rest. This went on for a little while. The only time I was not feeling like this was when I was coaching my kids. For some reason, the moment I stood on the ice with my skates on, with the kids, it is as if nothing had happened. 

Luckily for me, last year, while attending a classmate's wedding, I made a new friend. Our interaction was short, but meaningful. Since exchanging our instagram, we would check in on one another, mostly me being checked on, because I am bad at checking in (mostly because I feel awkward in doing so). Around this time, I shared what had happened. In return, got a bunch of cool drawings, a lot of sass, and a big fat slap (much needed crude reminder) that I have to STOP FEELING SORRY FOR MYSELF. Not only was I being told this, Gary Vee's content was also drumming a lot about being responsible for your own shit, and owning it. 

Alright. It was time. So, the first thing I did, was chant about it. (Back story, I practice Nichiren Buddhism and am a part of the Soka Gakkai. Part of our practice is to chant Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo twice a day. Of course, I was slacking at the time, feeling sorry for myself. Going to bed with my own pity party instead of owning my shit). During that process, I cried a bunch, and I told myself, no more pity partying. So one by one, I began apologizing to my colleagues who I have wronged. I may not like my job, but that's all on me. No one else deserves to be yelled at. I've since made up with all but one colleague, who still intimidates me and actively ignores me. That's cool. In time, maybe. 

A friend once relayed a message told by a deceased friend. The friend mentioned an observation of their friendship, that was smooth sailing. One that did not encounter arguments ore fights. "We never once fought, or got angry at one another. It's not a bad thing, it's just that it doesn't give us a sense of intimacy." "What do you mean?" "Fighting or arguing about something gives the relationship meaning. Of course, not to fight over nothing, but to have disagreements every now and then, gives the relationship a new meaning, a sense of closure, and deep understanding & bonding. 

Easing out of quick sand; still stuck, but surely

So here I was, making strides and feeling victorious with my colleagues. Of course, life does not end there. In the last year, I have had a handful of discussions with my family that did not end great. In 2019, I have dedicated most of my time to staying silent when it came to disagreements in the family. But recently, in disappointment, I walked away from preparing dinner midway. Instead, opted for silence, and a dinner strike. Usually, I would raise my voice when we were all called for a family meeting. I'd be the first to chime in my thoughts and opinions. This time, my dad came to speak to me in person. While I voiced my opinion, I did my best to be level headed, to find my words, and speak them instead of yell them. I expressed my disappointment, shared my hurt, and explained that I was in no correct state to have a diplomatic discussion. 

A couple weeks back, I also met up with M. This was inspired by Atypical on Netflix (a show highly recommended in my list). The protagonist, a kid on the autistic spectrum went through an agonizing period of losing his best friend over a major disagreement, but ended up saving the BFF. If an autistic kid can put aside his pride, so can I, I thought. So we met, I got an apology, and responded. As close as we once were, I could not bring myself to look M in the eye and fully look past the hurt. While pouring out my thoughts, I just looked to the side and kept my glance at the distance. Then when I was told that the ball is now in my court, I felt overwhelmed and left. 

This incident reminded me of a classmate I was once close to, but who I had hurt tremendously. I would like to say it was not my fault, but I have no one to blame but myself. While we've remained civil, we can never go back to the way our friendship once was. I take full responsibility for my actions, and do not expect the person to share my desire for the friendship to go back to the way they once were. Granted, we all make mistakes, but some mistakes are meant to be made for the lessons to be learnt. Boy, did I learn my lesson. It was a heavy price to pay. The only difference is, now the roles are reversed. Even more so now, I whole-heartedly comprehend the hurt my friend received. While I've been forgiven for the hurt I've caused, it can never be forgotten. 

Actions speak louder than words

No scenario is the same, thus, the significance of the apology shall follow. If I could turn back time, I would change the way I hurt my classmate. But the lesson I learnt has played a huge role in how I would like to respect, and be respected, a struggle I still face today. While I seem to have made amends with my colleagues, the best I can be is civil with my classmate. Easier said than done, it is the actions that mean most. For starters, not being a dick is the rule of thumb. No one likes a person who treats you like garbage, so why do the same to others? As kids, whenever we'd have a squabble with another person, our parents/guardians would put us in a room until we apologized to one another. Doesn't matter who was wrong, both parties were involved in this squabble, so both have wronged the other. As adults, the mere act of saying sorry is such a tall order. 

A friend recently recalled something from her Social Psych class:
"Often times, people apologize for themselves, and not for how they made the other person feel". She said that we don't realize this, but when we say sorry, we go "I'm sorry. I did this because___". It's always the case when people apologize because subconsciously, we're trying to protect ourselves, by making ourselves look good. When actually, it's more harmful that way. 

HUH.

While using words to say "I'm sorry" takes a lot out of one's ego, sometimes, words just do not suffice. As someone who has struggled with expressing myself, I often find myself in situations where I feel frustrated in failing to properly express my thoughts. So often times, I compensate by doing something that I feel is "nice" as a way of expressing myself. As a result, I am also acutely aware that my preference for apologies should come in forms of actions. Instead of just saying sorry, how about actually showing the other person that you're sorry? No need to beat yourself up in front of the person you wronged. Instead, show up more. Truly give it your best shot. With my colleagues, I am still in the process of checking in with them, getting to know them in little ways. All while sharing with them my favorite dark chocolate digestive cookies. It's small, but I'm hoping it's helping them slowly move past our differences. 

Most of us aren't kids anymore. If you can read this, and have read this far, I'm confident that you believe that you are a grown adult, and that you can make wise life decisions. Since we're not kids who have been forced to say sorry, (based on my own personal experience), I've observed these approaches: 

1. As painful as it was, reflect on what happened from start to current point
2. Sincerely apologizing for how we made the OTHER person feel
3. WITHOUT explaining WHY I did what I did back there
4. Using our actions to help all parties involved move past what happened
5. Understand that if the person still refuses to see you, that this person needs more time and space to be with that feeling. Pushing them for an answer/response is not going to help you/the situation
6. Recognizing that some things may not go back to where they were, and that's okay. We're all individual people, with individual lives. Life goes on, with or without each other

Challenge for 2020: How to piss people off, without telling them to piss off

Pissing people off when the universe is making it happen, is alright, as it is part of that growth process. So why add more fuel to the fire by being unnecessarily tough? 2019 was definitely a year filled with pissing people off. While it may not be intentional, the next course of action, at least for me, is to avoid making others feel lesser than they feel/are. We all know that once the words leave us, we can never take them back. In 2019, I've observed some new ways to be patient. My job of working in sales has also given me a new found perspective on what it means to be patient. My biggest challenge moving forward is really making the conscious effort to scream less, and listen more. A good friend once taught me, when you're listening, count to twenty before you respond. And more recently, I've learnt "W-A-I-T" which stands for "WHY-AM-I-TALKING". From my observations, I blow up often because I seldom give others the chance to finish what they're saying before I respond. Leaving me like a lobster in boiling water. Moving forward, this is something I'm going to strive towards.