(or: “Sorry” Is Not Repair) With the pseudo-sorries and breadcrumb accountability, I am left bewildered.
What does real repair even feel like? Because I have had plenty of people apologise at me. Not to me. At me. It is always the same: a vague phrase tossed over the fence like a dog treat.
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Sorry.”
“Oh no.”
“Did not mean it like that.”
And then—like clockwork—the behaviour repeats, sometimes within the same day. So, forgive me for being sceptical when someone tells me that saying sorry is automatic. That is just what you do when you hear someone is in pain.
Comments like this are appalling. Not because I am against sympathy, of course. I am not some unfeeling demon. But because… automatic? Pfft. So neurotypical people get to run on autopilot, and that is considered normal. Even sweet.
But when neurodivergent people run on impulse, miss a cue, speak too bluntly, forget to wrap our truths in decorative paper—suddenly we’re uncouth. Wrong. A problem.
So it is an excuse for them, but a nail in our coffin?
I beg your pardon?
We get crucified for not wearing socially acceptable masks, while they take their masks off dramatically in the Himalayas and call it “finding themselves.” Which is just a socially flattering way of saying:
“I am dropping the rules I demand everyone else follow.”
We did not get the memo or the How to Wear Your Socially Acceptable Mask handbook. No update patch explained what expressions to make with our faces and how long to hold eye contact, so we did not unsettle the villagers. So we are punished for being ourselves.
But the same society that punishes us will also happily weaponise our symptoms against us.
They loathe our directness until they want a scapegoat.
…mock our literalness until they need plausible deniability.
…call us rigid until we show receipts.
…swear we are dramatic until their own autopilot harms someone, and suddenly, intent matters more than impact.
The playing field is not even.
It feels like being told to teach someone Japanese when I do not speak Japanese.
“Of course you do! Look at all those comics! They are from Japan!”
“…yeah, but they are translated into English…”
“Nonsense! You have all the information right there!”
Then, if I explain that they have seen a Japanese film and therefore know more Japanese than I do, I will get a snide little comment about how inflexible I am.
And this is the part that breaks my brain:
They do not want communication. They want complete and utter compliance. Because communication requires shared definitions, mutual accountability, and repair that involves behavioural change.
Compliance only requires a mask.
So no. “Sorry” is not magic. And if your apology is automatic, vague, and repeatable across every situation like a default ringtone, it is hardly repair. It is just the sound you make to avoid responsibility.
TL;DR
Real repair is not a phrase. Real repair is a pattern change. It is specificity. It is ownership and consistent behaviour over time. Real repair feels like relief—like your nervous system is allowed to stop bracing, because the other person stops making you responsible for both the harm and the healing.
