The First Step in My Journey to Speak Up After 50
On my journey to learn to, finally, speak up after the age of 50, I began by coming up with a series of five steps that I could put into practice, in order, and build on. My theory was/is that this would make it somewhat easier for me to accomplish my end goal. Many people will, of course say, all of this is easy.
Yeah, so easy
“Why don’t you just speak up?” my wife, Sami, would ask, her voice tinged with the kind of exasperation that only comes from years of watching someone you love repeatedly undersell themselves. “All you have to do is say something.” She made it sound easy. But it wasn’t. At least, not for me. And I know I’m not alone in this. There are many like me, especially in my generation, who’ve spent decades apologizing for merely existing, and who’ve never quite learned how to speak up without fear.
So, I decided it was time for a change. I mapped out a series of steps, a personal roadmap of sorts, that I could implement, one by one, to help me finally find my voice. And it all began with this first, eye-opening realization: I apologize. Constantly. For things that aren’t even my fault.
I’m talking about the unnecessary, over-the-top kind of apologizing, the kind that isn’t about taking responsibility for a real mistake, but more about an ingrained need to placate, to smooth over, to keep the peace. If you’re genuinely at fault, of course you should apologize. But I’m talking about situations where no apology is necessary.
Somewhere along the way, I started joking that I must be part Canadian, given how much I apologize (I’m not, by the way). It had become a reflex, a default setting that kicked in whenever there was the slightest hint of discomfort, even when I wasn’t the one responsible. And it was keeping me silent.
Write this down
So, I decided to start journaling. Every night, I’d reflect on my day and write down every moment I’d apologized unnecessarily. The goal was to identify patterns and figure out why I was doing this to myself. It turns out I didn’t need weeks of introspection -just three or four days of jotting down my thoughts was enough to shine a glaring light on this habit. Suddenly, I could see it coming before it happened. I’d catch myself mid-apology, pause, and replace it with a simple “Excuse me” or, better yet, nothing at all.
Here’s the kicker: that little bit of journaling was enough to break a habit I’d spent a lifetime cultivating. And it felt like a massive win, step one in my process of learning to speak up and own my space.
That being said, let me share some of the most ridiculous things I’ve found myself apologizing for, just to give you a sense of how deep this runs.
Things I’ve Apologized For: A Comedic But Painful List
1. Walking by someone on the sidewalk. Picture a wide-open sidewalk with plenty of room for both of us to pass without incident. “Sorry,” I’d say, as if my mere presence was an inconvenience.
2. Someone walking past me as I stood still. This one baffles me every time. I’m literally just standing there, minding my own business, and yet I feel compelled to apologize as they pass.
3. Opening a restroom door at the same time as someone on the other side. The classic awkward moment of simultaneous door-pulling somehow ends with me apologizing, as if I orchestrated the whole thing to inconvenience them.
4. Almost getting hit by a car while I had the right of way in a crosswalk. I’m the one in danger, but my first instinct is still to say “Sorry,” as though I’m at fault.
5. Receiving the wrong meal from a waiter. I’ve actually apologized to servers when they bring me something I didn’t order. On more than one occasion, I’ve simply eaten the wrong meal, deciding that my discomfort wasn’t worth the trouble of sending it back.
6. A bartender handing me the wrong drink. Same story: they hand me something I didn’t ask for, and instead of pointing it out, I say “Sorry” like I’ve somehow let them down.
7. Walking into a “wing stack” at a store. For those unfamiliar, wing stacks are those tempting piles of impulse buys retailers strategically place in every aisle. I walked right into one once, bumping into it with enough force to jostle some products. And what did I do? I apologized. To a stack of potato chips.
That’s right. I apologized to a stack of inanimate objects. But after a few days of journaling, I stopped. I haven’t looked back since, and I feel like I’ve taken my first real step towards reclaiming my voice.
So if you’re like me, and you’re tired of apologizing for things you didn’t do, take a moment to reflect. Start small. Notice when it’s happening. You might just find that the road to speaking up begins with something as simple ,and as powerful, as learning to stop saying “Sorry.”