Today has been one of those days.
One of those days we’ve looked forward to for months, only to have a bunch of imperfect humans smash the anticipation with the reality that packing for camping is THE WORST.
We’re heading to Tony Grove, one of my favorite places in the world. I grew up camping there and haven’t been back since I was a kid, so I’ve been very excited to take my own family. But this morning? Absolute chaos.
There was yelling. And meltdowns. And more yelling.
And not just from the kids. I was grumpy and impatient too. I was snapping, frustrated, and absolutely contributing to the chaos.
My five-year-old, Holland, was especially upset that I couldn’t help him pack yet. At one point he stormed around the house crying, “I’M GOING TO DIE! I’M GOING TO DIE!”, which felt like a pretty accurate reflection of how we were all doing emotionally.
So… where’s the uplifting part, Robyn?
Here it is:
Sometimes we fall short.
Sometimes we lose our patience.
Sometimes we keep our word in one area only to drop the ball in another.
And none of that means we’re broken. It means we’re human.
What’s gotten me through days like this isn’t hating on myself for falling short, it’s remembering the power of a real apology.
We can handle people being imperfect. What damages relationships isn’t failure; it’s the refusal to take responsibility when we’ve harmed someone.
And here’s the key: an apology that heals does not come with justification.
Have you ever had someone apologize to you, but then immediately explain or defend why they acted that way?
How did it feel?
Usually, it doesn’t feel like an apology at all. It feels like deflection and blame. And instead of bringing you closer, it can drive an even bigger wedge between you.
Let’s break it down and we’ll even give a real life example from me yelling at my kid this morning.
❌ What NOT to say:
“Holland, I’m sorry I yelled at you, but you were yelling at me and I couldn’t take it anymore.”
This tells my five-year-old that my behavior is his responsibility. That if he wants kindness from me, he must first behave. That’s not accountability. That’s emotional outsourcing.
✅ What to say instead:
“Holland, I’m sorry I yelled at you. I didn’t like how you were treating me, but it wasn’t okay for me to yell. I’m responsible for how I act, always.”
I’m not excusing his behavior. I’m not excusing mine. I’m teaching that everyone is responsible for their own actions and emotions, especially the adult in the room.
We tell our kids, “Two wrongs don’t make a right,” but how often do we model that? Especially with our spouses, kids, or closest relationships?
And yes, I probably care deeply about this because I spent years in a relationship where every upset was somehow my fault. I know what it’s like to live with someone who never apologizes and always deflects. And I know what it feels like to internalize that and do it myself.
So here’s my invitation:
Over the next month, start noticing when you feel justified in being unkind. Whether it’s toward your spouse, your kids, or anyone else. Ask yourself:
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Am I expecting them to make me happy?
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Am I holding them responsible for my emotions?
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Am I using their behavior to justify my own?
If you want to break toxic cycles and create emotional safety in your home, this is a perfect place to start.
You, the adult, taking radical responsibility for your own emotions.
No blame. No excuses. Just ownership.
And the courage to apologize.
With love,
Robyn | My Name is Courage
P.S. Owning up to your mess ups and weaknesses is not confirmation that you’re a bad person. It actually takes someone with an incredible amount of strength and maturity to own up to their mistakes without needing to justify or blame their behavior on someone else. Every time you can practice owning without justifying, you will be stronger for it (and so will your relationship).
