Anatomy of an Apology

An apology is not a bargaining tool for which I get something back, including forgiveness.
~Harriet Lerner, author of "Why Won't You Apologize", speaking with Brené Brown

There are many ways to say you're sorry for cheating on your wife. You might have even heard some of them.
I'm sorry but I thought you didn't love me anymore.
I'm sorry but you invaded my privacy, which is unacceptable.
How many times do I have to say 'I'm sorry'?
I apologize but you need to apologize too because we were fighting all the time.
I shouldn't have done that but you cheated on me four years ago.
These apologies likely didn't make us feel better. And that's because, as Harriet Lerner would say, they aren't very good apologies.
A good apology after betrayal is as rare as a diamond in the mud. 
Even the truly sincere ones often come with strings attached. Yes, they're truly sorry for cheating but, honestly, when are you going to let this go? Yes, they recognize that what they did was wrong but you're not making this any easier by crying all the time and making them feel awful.
Which is why I was so struck, listening to Dr. Lerner on Brené Brown's incredible new podcast (seriously! Listen!!), when she noted that a good apology asks for nothing in return, not even forgiveness.
A sincere apology, she says, is about soothing the other person. The offender's feelings don't matter in the context of an apology. This isn't about them at all. It's about us. It's about the injury inflicted by them to us. We are under zero obligation to accept their apology, not right away, not ever. We are under zero obligation to make them feel better about apologizing. An apology should never come with the demand to be forgiven.
And yet...isn't that what most offenders are after? Forgiveness? Absolution?
I get it. Your spouse having to live with the acknowledgement that they have grievously harmed another person, particularly another person who loved and trusted them, is horrifically uncomfortable (unless they're a sociopath, in which case, run, don't walk, to your divorce attorney). I imagine that must feel terrible. Too bad. That's the price they pay for terrible behaviour. It sucks. We get it.
But it was a choice they made. And, if they're sincere about making amends, an apology is the perfect place to start. 
A sincere apology. 
An apology in which there isn't a "but" to be found.
An apology that doesn't expect anything.
An apology with just one purpose: To soothe the injured party.
Too often, apologies are framed as weakness. But can you imagine something that takes greater strength than facing down your own abhorrent actions and apologizing for them? (Okay, perhaps healing from infidelity takes greater strength, but you get my point...)
Unfortunately, few of have seen sincere apologies in action. Our parents might have seen apologizing as undermining their own authority. Our siblings might have seen apologies as a something one offers under duress ("Apologize to your sister!"). And spouses (and, gulp, we) might have seen an apology as a "get out of jail free" card. We apologized already. For goodness' sake, let it go.
None of which gets us where we want to go. Which is to healing. Which is to responsibility for hurtful behaviour and sincere desire to sooth the injured party.
After listening to Lerner, I tried out her advice. My eldest daughter and I have been struggling lately. She tells me how she's feeling and I immediately begin telling her how to mitigate those feelings. She feels blamed for her feelings, I get frustrated that she doesn't take my advice.
I told her that I was sorry. I named the hurtful behaviour ("for not just listening when you talk to me"), I told her I would work on it and aim to do better next time. And I meant it.
Not a perfect apology. But a darn good one.