A seven-day experiment, the awkward moments to expect, and the sentence that replaces "sorry"
Scroll through your outbox and see how many emails start with a sorry, then total them up. Skip the sincere ones and count only the reflexive ones: "Sorry for the wait." "Apologies for the interruption." "Sorry, may I just add one thing?" For many women in senior roles, the total is shocking, and nearly none of them were for anything that required forgiveness.
So here is the experiment. Beginning Monday, "sorry" is reserved for real harm: a missed deadline that cost someone, or a mistake about something that truly mattered. Everything else gets swapped out. Below is what usually unfolds, day by day, along with the phrases that make the switch workable.
By the first couple of days in Los Angeles, you begin to notice the pattern.
The first thing you pick up on is how often you say it. The word shows up in email openings, at the start of meetings, and right before you ask something that was already answered. In the moment, you will manage to catch about half of them. That is plenty to begin with.
Your swaps: "Thanks for bearing with me" in place of "Sorry for the delay." "Let me add something" in place of "Sorry, can I just." "Here's where things stand" in place of "Sorry it took so long."
Around days three and four, the change starts to feel unfamiliar.
Without the padding, your sentences hit harder than you are used to. A request sounds like a request. A correction sounds like a correction. Most people quit right here, because the awkwardness is mistaken for rudeness. It isn't. It is simply what a sentence sounds like without an apology up front, and your colleagues hear that unapologetic tone from the men in the next office every single day.
If you want a softener, choose a genuine one: "I appreciate you turning this around so quickly" costs you nothing and apologizes for nothing. Write the three sentences you say most often, plus a replacement for each, on a sticky note. It sounds dull, but it works, because the reflex is quicker than your good intentions.
Day 5, others start responding differently
Around Friday, though, the replies you get to your requests start to shift. Replies arrive faster. Across Orange County and San Diego alike, people stop re-explaining what you already grasped. The shift is subtle, and that is the point: a sentence that opens with an apology invites the listener to grant something. A sentence that opens with substance invites them to act. It is also possible you will see which colleague was fonder of the earlier habit. That is useful information too.
The single principle that keeps you grounded
Take care out there, friend. The experiment is not about removing warmth; it is about removing the implication that you owe people something for taking up their time. "Sorry" was doing two jobs at once. Keep the kindness. Retire the apology.
Where sorry still belongs
When your mistake cost someone something real. Offer it one time, deliver it completely, and name the specific change you will make next. An apology that is used sparingly is an apology that carries weight.
SHORT Describe the event
Once the week is behind you, send us a note covering the hardest moment, the wording you chose instead, and how things looked by Friday. We will publish the strongest accounts, with your permission and under your name or anonymously, as the first entries in a new series of reader stories about what really happens at work across California.
Checking your sent folder is where you will want to start. Sorry about that.