The other day, I reached out to a work colleague and apologised. We’d had a minor difference of opinion. Nothing major, but she had seemed clearly exasperated, and I wanted to acknowledge my part in the interaction.

Truthfully, I wasn’t even entirely sure what I had done wrong. The frustration had seemed to sit more heavily on her side than mine.

But I also tend to believe that situations like that are rarely created by one person alone. So, I called her and left a message saying I was sorry for any discomfort I had caused, and that I wanted to make sure things were okay between us.

She didn’t return the call. No problem.

But when I next heard from her, it became clear that she had doubled down.

And what struck me was this: By apologising, it seemed she had taken that to mean I was entirely responsible for what had happened — which therefore meant she carried none of the responsibility herself.

That hadn’t been my intention at all.

What’s interesting is that this isn’t the first time I’ve experienced this. There have been several moments in my life where I’ve apologised in an effort to soften a situation or repair a relationship, only to realise later that the apology had shifted the balance of responsibility entirely onto me.

And once that happens, the apology stops functioning as repair. Instead, it becomes leverage.

That’s the part I’m still trying to understand.

Because I don’t actually mind apologising. I’m comfortable acknowledging my part in things, even when it’s uncomfortable.

But I’m beginning to realise there’s a difference between taking responsibility and absorbing all of it.

A friend recently suggested that instead of apologising, I could try thanking people for their patience or understanding instead.

Maybe.

I haven’t fully landed this one yet.

I just know I’m trying to find a way to stay true to myself in conflict without unintentionally making things harder — for me or the other person.