Apologizing.

In packing up our old apartment to move into our then-new house (now it’s the old house, more on that later), I was running through the to-do list with my best friend. In this very simple, not super meaningful conversation, she just happened to say something that played right into my well protected pile of insecurities, on accident. She said, “well, I mean you guys do have a lot of stuff”. It’s seemingly meaningless, right? Of course we do, we are three whole people and one of us is a toddler with an affinity for dress up clothes and all things JUST big enough to not be considered choking hazards. I could honestly dress the neighborhood up as all of the Disney princesses, with duplicates, if that was ever something anyone needed. We do have a lot of stuff. She’s a truth teller, not a bully. Get a grip, Kayla.

But, man, I would be lying to you if I said it didn’t hit a nerve. Ya know those things? They are so small, and they feel silly, but they just stick in your head like a tiny DJ is playing them on repeat. wiki-wiki-you have too much stuff-wiki-wiki, right? At the time, I didn’t bring it up. I just did that thing that I do when I am certain I am the only one that is silly about small things and I continued the conversation. Until the statement cheated on my passive aggressive test and snuck out in conversation days later (face palm).

She was bathing Harper at the time while I packed, and I casually (see also: word vomited) mentioned, “well, you’re right, we do have a lot of stuff”. And because having a conversation with a mother results in 65 mini interruptions and distractions, Harper asked Best Friend to do something simultaneously. And do you know what Saint Soulmate did? She said, “hold on, honey girl. I think I offended your Mama and I need to make that right first.”

Your mouth just dropped open, I can feel it. You can feel the overwhelming love that the apology that I was about the receive had in it. I realize I’m about to disappoint you, but I don’t actually remember what the apology entailed. I don’t honestly remember what she said. I just remember being flabbergasted (yep. bringing that word back.) by the fact that she dead stopped what she was doing, picked up on my passive aggressive word vomited recollection of something she never intended to have hurt me, to make sure she cast that insecurity out of me. She prioritized how I felt over the fact that she didn’t mean anything by it, and she didn’t justify by telling me she didn’t mean anything by it. She just legitimized my feeling above logic or excuse – and apologized.

I know she said something more honest than the thing that I was insecure about. I know that she took my insecurity into her hands, with the gentlest touch, and called it a liar. I know that she took my face in her hands, even gentler, and gave me a bigger truth to replace the insecurity – that we don’t have too much stuff, we just need to prioritize packing, and she’s in to help with all of it. “We will get it done.”

See the feeling, apologize for the impact, cast out the insecurity, and put truth in it’s place. It’s ordinary magic.

I have apologized differently since then. I have done my absolute best to recognize where I have spoken into someone’s insecurity and tried to replace that with a bigger, brighter truth. And I can say from the receiving end of that interaction, THAT is the kind of love that lights up the darkness. The kind of love that replaces darkness with a brighter light than the darkness was dark. I can tell you from the giving end – it takes a little more intentional interaction than I’m used to.

You have to really pay attention to know where your people need truth lavished upon them into the places that they’re likely trying to hide a little. But it’s worth it. Every time.