Sorry That I Can’t Be Sorry

8/18/14

“I’m sorry.”


 sorry.


I’ve wore that word like it’s a nice pair of size 5 jeans. Pulling them up around my calves and buttoning them to my waist whenever I feel uncomfortable in the outfit I’m wearing for that day: cluztiness, dreamer, lover, life-shaker. And in a world that preaches to the younger generations that the very essence of what they are isn’t enough, why wouldn’t the first word to bubble to our lips during a moment of smallness be sorry? It’s how we’re wired. I’m not a mechanic. But like you, I wish I could go through this world with my little tool box (kind of like a Bob the Builder- I’d be Courtney the Changer. I’d change how you see that word.) and I’d fix that bug. I’d take those 5 letters and fix the way

you veiw them.

You see. I wear that word like its my favorite sweater. Wrapping it around my scars and torso. Wrapping it around myself to hold everything together… when it just needs to fall apart. That’s a frightening realization to have at 5:37 am on a Monday. That I need chaos & muddiness & falling apart. That I need those things– and someone should never apologize for needing. I’m slowly learning that. An email I recieved this morning was a kind of butt-kicking into pushing things along.

So here’s to unapologizing. I’m sorry I’m not sorry that I’ve overcame battles people don’t even know about. That makes me who I am. I need to not apologize for the quirkiness & strength & gentleness & fierceness that God bundled into my skin and wrapped up in a shiny silver bow.

I’m sorry I’m not sorry babycakes, that writing & travelling & experiencing has kept me alive & loving people & trusting way too much & loving way too hard. I am so not sorry for that.

I’m sorry I’m not sorry for burning a suitcase full of all my past me’s. Yeah, they’ve gotten me to this point… but I really need to live in the now. The present tense Courtney is pretty stellar if I just give her a shot.

I’m sorry I’m not sorry for singing loudly and dancing in parking lots during rain storms. I think things like that make life beautiful and worth living. I shouldn’t apologize for that.

I’m sorry I’m not sorry for loving you when you think you don’t deserve love. You always deserve love & hope & dreams.

So that’s my tiny list. I’ll probably keep writing it in my notebook. But I think I’m going to be stopping by a Salvation Army later to donate a pair of jeans and a sweater. I don’t think I’ll be wearing them anymore, do you?

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