There is nothing like the feeling we get when we really screw up.  That dread you feel in the pit of your stomach when you know you really messed up good.  This feeling gets compounded when someone has to point it out to you.  You get called out.  There’s the awkward silence just after the moment they tell you what you have done and who it has hurt.  You think about it.  Recall the incident in your mind.  You slowly start to realize you can’t say much because they are right.  You did do what they are saying.  All you can say is, “WOW! I really messed up. I’m sorry.”

You want to make excuses.  Your mind quickly goes through the possible reasons how you could have made such a monumental mistake.  You want to make it somehow go away.  You want to immediately take away their pain as well as rid yourself of the guilt you feel inside.  You want to get away from the sound of hurt and disappointment in their voice.  And the feeling of disgust you feel about yourself. But you soon realize, there is no escaping it.

I had an experience yesterday just like this.  I did something that makes my heart sink just thinking about it.  It makes me want to hide under a rock.

I forgot my nephew’s birthday.  He turned 9.  Old enough to feel the sting of your aunt forgetting your birthday but not quite old enough to make sense of it.  I let the whole day and following week go by without wishing him a happy birthday.  I have no valid reason.  No fabulous excuse.  I forgot.  How lame is that?

Not only did I hurt my nephew, I hurt my sister.  Imagine having to call your sibling to tell them they forgot your child’s birthday.  Painful!

All I could do was own it.  Say “Oh, my god, I am so lame!”  “Yes, I totally forgot!”  There was no way to explain it away.  Just the ugly truth that man, I screwed up!

After hearing my sister out and letting her vent, I had to call my sweet, smart, squeezable nephew.  I had to call him and tell him I forgot his birthday and beg for forgiveness.  I’d rather take physical punishment if it would make my guilt and feeling of absolute lameness go away.

Apologizing is hard.  Admitting you’re wrong.  Confessing you did something awful.

Sometimes adults have a hard time apologizing to each other let alone to a child.  Sometimes people think in apologizing, especially to a child, we are relinquishing power or authority.

But I needed to do this.  I wanted him to know I care about him, I am there for him, and he can trust me.

In my almost 19 years as a parent and in my former career as a counselor, I have seen first hand the positive effect an adult apology can have on a child.

Here are five ways an adult apology can impact a child.

• When an adult apologizes to a child, it shows them that adults make mistakes too.  It’s okay to admit we have flaws.  It helps for kids (of all ages) to realize that no one is perfect.  Not even their parents.  This modeling will help the next time the child makes a mistake.  They will remember that they are not expected to be perfect.

• It teaches them that apologizing is the first step in repairing the hurt.  It shows through example that by apologizing, we are telling them we care that we hurt their feelings and we want to make it right.

• It says to them we love and respect them enough to want to make things better.  It tells them that even though they are only __ years old, our feelings are not more important than theirs.  That we love them  and want to take away their hurt.

• It shows them what it feels like when someone is genuinely sorry.  They are able to be on the receiving end of an apology and can start to tell when someone really means it.

• It allows them to say “I forgive you.”  Forgiveness is a powerful thing for a child to be able to ‘give’ an adult.  Especially an adult they love.

 

It’s hard to admit to others and yourself when you screw up!

So, with embarrassment and sadness in my heart, I made the call.

When my nephew got on the line, after small talk about his day, I just came out with it.  I told him I was so, so sorry for not calling him for his birthday.  I told him that was really lame and I would NEVER let it happen again.  He kept saying “it’s okay, it’s okay” as I was groveling.  I told him no it’s not. It was hurtful.  After a pause, his sweet little voice said, “It’s okay aunty KP, I forgive you.”

My eyes fogged up.  He was telling me it’s ok. I’m ok.  I’m not a horrible person. I made a mistake.

I know they say “forgiveness is a gift you give yourself.”

But today, this was not a gift I could give to myself.   It was a gift that could only be given by a 9-year-old little boy.

And I received this gift with gratitude.

Salty Kisses,

Karen