Upright: A Better Way to Apologize

April 28, 2026

Two Types of Apology

In early recovery, guilt comes fast. Shame comes right behind it.

We get flooded with awareness of the damage we have done, and we cannot unsee it. We desperately want to earn our dignity back. We desperately want to fix what we broke.

Many of us start announcing our faults out loud, repeating to ourselves how terrible we are many times a day. We share it with people in our support system. We share it with the people we have actually harmed.

Most of the time, the people we have harmed are sick of hearing it. They cannot take one more “I am sorry.”

They do not want our apologies. They are tired of empty promises and meaningless words. What they want is action and change. They have a long emotional distance to travel before they can trust us again, and our words do nothing to shorten that distance. Our actions over time are what shorten it.

Here is something worth sitting with. The formal amends process the 12 steps point us toward does not begin until we’ve gotten to step nine.

Not before.

There is something called living amends, which we can start right away. But living amends has nothing to do with another verbal confession or another emotional conversation with the person we have harmed.

Living amends means we quietly start doing things differently. We let the new behavior speak. We show up on time. We pick up the phone. We do the work. And we stop expecting anyone to applaud.

A piece of my own story. I had a huge amends to make. While I was still in rehab, I made a phone call. I admitted the wrongs. I named the damage.

That was not amends. That was admission. The real amends came years later, once I had done the ninth step the way it was meant to be done, with a sponsor, with preparation, with a clear orientation toward the person I was repairing things with.

So this article is about something deeper than the timing of when to apologize. It is about the difference between two kinds of apology.

One is not useful. The other one is. With a little insight, you can move from one to the other.

Scenario one

Picture the posture of a person consumed with guilt and shame. Head bent low. Upper back rounded. Neck pulled toward the ground.

That posture is symbolic. There is a burden riding on top of them. Imagine a heavy sack of sand pressing down on the upper back.

When this person apologizes, they bring that burden to the person they harmed. Hands clasped together. Eyes pleading.

“Please forgive me. Please.”

What they are really saying underneath those words is something else. “Please take this burden off my back. I am so sorry. I promise I will never do this again. Just say the words.”

The magic words they are looking for are familiar ones. “It is okay. I still love you. You are welcome home. I see how sincere you are.”

That is the move. I have a burden, and I am asking you to carry it for me. I hurt you, and now I want you to take my pain on top of yours.

It feels like an apology. From the outside it looks like one. But underneath, it is a request for relief, dressed up in the language of remorse. And the person on the receiving end can usually feel it, even if they cannot name it. They feel pulled at. They feel obligated to comfort the one who hurt them. And something in them quietly closes.

Scenario two

In our tradition, the apology process is broken into two parts.

“Charata al Ha’avar. Kabbalah al ha’asid”. Regret for what was. Resolution for what will be.

One piece is emotional. One piece is functional. And here is the move that changes everything. The emotional part has to be completed somewhere else. Not with the person we harmed.

It gets worked out between me, myself, God, my sponsor, my therapist, my coach, my fellowship. People who can hold it without flinching, because their hearts are not on the line the way my wife’s heart is.

I have to be honest about what I have done. And I have to find my innocence again.

Because at our essence, we are good people who have done bad things. Those are two very different statements, and the gap between them is the entire game.

There is a phrase I love. Guilt says, “I did something bad.” Shame says, “I am bad.”

When I show up to the person I harmed still carrying the full burden, I am still stuck in “I am bad.” And what I am secretly hoping is that they will be the one to tell me I am good.

That hope is never satisfied. Not by them. Not by anyone outside of me. No matter how many times they say “I forgive you,” the burden regenerates within the hour.

It works the same way on the other side. A spouse carrying betrayal trauma can say “I forgive you” a hundred times and still never feel safe, because the safety they need is not something you can hand them either. Both people are reaching across the table for something the other person cannot give.

So what do I do with the burden?

I take it to the places it actually belongs. Meetings. Sponsor. Therapist. Coach. God. Fellowship. I talk through what I have done. I uncover my innocence. I get clear that I am a good person who has caused real damage.

Once that burden is off my back, my whole posture changes. I stand upright. Fully. Steady. Strong.

Now I am ready to make amends. Real amends. Now my orientation flips entirely.

I am no longer coming to you so you can relieve me. I am coming to be of service to you. If there is something you need from me to repair this, I am here for it.

The person I hurt may or may not be ready. They may have done their own work already. They may want nothing from me. That is okay. Because I am no longer using them. I am no longer asking them to fix me.

So what do you do with this in early recovery?

Slow the F down.

Watch out for the unburdening apology. The one where you just want to talk to your wife. Or your kids. To tell them again how sorry you are.

That intensity. That neediness to see forgiveness in their eyes. To hear it in their voice. Process all of that somewhere else first.

Say, “God, please free me from this.” Because underneath, it is self-preservation. Ego preservation. I feel like a bad person, so I need to become someone good. Where do I run for that fix? Right back to the people I harmed, asking them to bless me.

That kind of apology is unconsciously self-centered. Survival mode wearing the costume of remorse.

The work is to release the burden first. Walk in upright. Then ask what is actually needed.

That is the apology that lands. That is the apology that builds something instead of begging for something. And that is the apology your loved ones have been waiting for the whole time, even if they could never have named it for you. They never wanted your guilt. They wanted you to come back to yourself, so you could actually come back to them.

Much love Moishe Dov