A seven-day experiment, the awkward moments to expect, and the sentence that replaces "sorry"
Scroll back through your sent folder and tally every time you apologized. Set aside the ones you truly owe and look at the reflexive ones: "Sorry for the delay." "Sorry to bother you." "Sorry, can I just add something?" Many women in senior roles, from Hartford's insurance offices to the manufacturing floors of New Britain, find that number alarming, and almost none of those apologies were for anything that needed forgiving.
Here, then, is the check you can run. Beginning Monday, save "sorry" for real harm only: a missed deadline that hurt a colleague, or a mistake that mattered. Every other spot gets a substitute. Below is what usually unfolds over the week, along with the phrases that make the change workable.
Days 1 and 2: becoming aware of the pattern
What stands out first is how often the word shows up. It opens emails, greets people as you walk into meetings, and comes before questions that were already settled. Most people catch roughly half of them in time, and that alone is a good result.
Swap in these lines: "Thanks for your patience" for "Sorry for the delay." "Let me add something" for "Sorry, can I just." "Here's the update" for "Sorry it took so long."
Days 3 and 4: the awkward middle stretch
Once the padding is gone, your sentences land with more force than you're accustomed to. A request comes across as plainly a request. A correction comes across as plainly a correction. Plenty of people quit right here, because the awkwardness starts to feel like unkindness. It isn't. It is simply what a sentence sounds like without an apology at the front, and your colleagues hear that from male peers every day.
Should you want a softener, choose one that's sincere: "Thanks for turning this around so fast" stays warm without apologizing for anything. On a sticky note, jot down the three phrases you lean on most and beside each one write something to say instead. It sounds too simple, but it works, because habit moves faster than intention.
Day 5: the people around you begin to answer in a different way
By Friday, the tone of replies tends to shift noticeably. Answers come back quicker, and fewer colleagues ask you to re-explain what you already made clear. The reason is straightforward: a sentence that opens with an apology invites the listener to grant something, while one that opens with the substance invites them to act. Pay attention as well to which group kept favoring the earlier wording. That tells you something too.
The one rule that keeps you human
Avoid sounding aloof. What this experiment asks is not that you stop being gracious. It's about dropping the message that you owe people something for taking up their time. "Sorry" was doing two jobs at once. Hold on to the courtesy and let the apology go.
When sorry still belongs in the conversation
Save it for moments when you truly erred and another person bore the cost. Name it one time, name it fully, and state the change you'll make going forward. An apology that's rare is one people believe.
Walk through the event
Live with the change for a week, then reach out to us. Share the hardest moment, the sentence you used in its place, and what had changed by Friday. With your permission, we'll publish the strongest accounts as the first entries in a new series of Hartford women's stories about what really happens at work, under your name or anonymously.
When the week is up, the sent folder is where you'll look first. Sorry about that.