If I had a pound for how many times I use the word ‘sorry’ in a year, I’d probably have enough money saved up for a house deposit. I’m prone to an apology in most aspects of my life, but especially in the workplace. Opening the bathroom door to see another colleague on their way in? Sorry! Missing an email about a client breakfast scheduled for this week? Sorry! Accidentally interrupting someone over Zoom? Sorry!

I know I’m a people-pleaser, but the number of times I say sorry makes me wonder why I feel the need to apologise all the time. What am I even sorry for? I’m someone who experiences imposter syndrome on a regular basis but even I know that I can’t be messing up or getting things wrong to the extent that it requires this many apologies.

Before sitting down to write this, I thought it would be interesting to search for the word ‘sorry’ in my inbox to see how many times I’ve typed it since starting my job in August. After the 100th email, I gave up counting; I knew I’d be sitting there trawling through apologies until late into the evening.

Taking accountability for one’s actions and having the courage to make a sincere and meaningful apology when required is a sign of strength and confidence, but over-apologising in unnecessary situations can have the opposite effect and it can end up holding us back.

Research suggests that women are more likely to apologise than men, with a 2010 study finding that women tend to say sorry more often because they have a lower threshold than men for what they consider offensive. Dr Elena Touroni, a consultant psychologist and co-founder of the Chelsea Psychology Clinic, explains that being able to say sorry is an important skill for all of us, but “societal norms have generally encouraged men to be more assertive and women to be reserved and not take up too much space, which can sometimes lead to women apologising more in situations where it’s not warranted”.

She adds that women tend to apologise as a “way to seem unthreatening, accommodating or to attempt to keep the peace”. It can just be a harmless habit for a lot of us, but for others, it may have deeper psychological roots, such as a “belief in one’s flaws or fears of abandonment”. This can drive someone to apologise as a way of making others more comfortable or preventing conflict, even when an apology isn’t necessary.

So, taking this all into account, I set myself the task of going a week without apologising or saying sorry. Here’s how it went.

Day one

Well, the experiment didn’t get off to the greatest of starts. One thing about commuting in London during rush hour is that you’re basically guaranteed to bump into or trip over someone. I work in the office on a Tuesday, so I’m one of thousands of commuters piling onto the Northern line on a grey and wet morning. As I try to squeeze past a couple of people standing by the doors, I immediately begin to apologise. I haven’t stood on anyone’s foot or shoved past them, but I still find myself saying sorry simply for trying to get on the Tube and get to work on time. Why? One thing I notice (and have noticed in the past, too) is that I tend to hear more women apologise for squeezing onto a packed train. Men seem to just board the train and get on with their day, even if they do accidentally stand on someone’s foot.

My apology count did not end there. By lunchtime, I’d said sorry a handful more times. One aspect of this experiment that I’m finding tricky is trying not to apologise in emails. It’s a feat in itself attempting to stay on top of my inbox, so late replies have become the norm. However, it doesn’t stop me from typing that five-letter word every single time. It’s something I mentioned to a therapist I was seeing a few years ago: why am I always apologising for responding late to emails or messages? I’ll always remember what she said: “Why do you need to reply to everything immediately? Are they even expecting an instant response?”

Today, I filtered through and replied to some of my unread emails and made sure I only apologised in one email, which is pretty good going so far.

Day two

A work-from-home day with no evening plans means I’m not really around people today, so there’s no one to accidentally bump into. Wednesdays are also quiet on the meeting front, so I don’t have many opportunities to say sorry – not that this has stopped me. During a mid-afternoon scroll through Instagram, I came across a friend from my freelancing days sharing on her stories that she’s been made redundant from her job. I quickly typed out a message to say how sorry I was and to drop me a line if there was anything I could do to help. It was only after 10 or so minutes had passed that I clocked that I’d said sorry. The message would’ve still made total sense without framing it as an apology, but saying sorry was clearly my knee-jerk response.

Day three

Another day in the office, but today I managed to avoid letting a sorry slip out on my way to work. Well, at least until I buzzed myself into the building. As I walked into the office lift and the doors were closing, I heard a voice shout to hold the doors and I scrambled to get them back open so that one of my colleagues could hop in. And how did I greet them? With a ’Sorry!’, of course. To my surprise, the rest of the morning went without a hitch. A few days into the experiment and I can feel myself becoming a lot more aware of when the urge to apologise comes to the surface. It almost feels like I’m going against my own nature when I stop myself apologising to make others feel more comfortable and at ease, which is likely the people-pleaser in me. The rest of the day was spent at the office Christmas party where no apologies were issued. A festive miracle!

Day four

The first thing I did this morning? Send an apology text to a guy I’m dating for a series of confusing late-night messages I sent the night before. But it was his response that really made me consider how much I fall back on saying sorry. “Stop apologising!” he replied. “You’ve literally got nothing to be sorry for.” And yet, that didn’t stop me from letting a couple more apologies slip out later on that evening while making my way home to Sheffield. On my way to Kings Cross station, I voice noted my two best friends and, seeing that I’d been talking for a whopping 10 minutes, I threw in a “Sorry for rambling!” to close out the message. I’m not sure why I feel bad taking up so much of their time. Is it such an inconvenience for them to listen to me for 10 minutes while I talk about my day?

While boarding an extremely busy train with plenty of people standing in the aisles, I accidentally fell back into the man behind me with my weekend bag, which quickly resulted in me throwing a bunch of apologies his way. He was obviously fine and very understanding of the situation, but this ‘Sorry!’ was mostly out of awkwardness and embarrassment.

Day five

A quiet day working at my parents’ house, I spend most of the day working on my to-do list without speaking to many people. Plus, the emails have ground to a halt so I’ve no one to needlessly apologise to for sending a (probably not very) late reply. Towards the end of the day, however, I receive a message from a friend who wants to talk to me about a tricky work situation she’s in. As I begin typing my reply to her, which includes a sorry, I stop to ask myself: is there another way I can rephrase this to express my sympathy with her situation? After five minutes, I still couldn’t think of another way to show my friend that I feel for her, so I kept the original message and pressed send.

“I failed over and over again”: this is how hard it is to avoid saying ‘sorry’ for a week