Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word

“It’s sad, so sad… it’s a sad, sad situation. And it’s getting more and more absurd. Sorry seems to be the hardest word” – Elton John

I was sitting in a meeting last month with someone I respect deeply—someone I’ve collaborated with for years. We were prepping for a huge presentation and hit a breaking point. Tension had been simmering between us for weeks. Frankly, I was resentful because I felt like I had been doing the bulk of the prep work. She, I assumed, felt micromanaged and untrusted by me. Neither of us said much… until I regrettably spoke up to express my frustration.

I made a comment—one of those snarky ones, where the words technically pass as professional but everyone in the room knows exactly what you’re really saying. She shot back an equally snide comment. And just like that, the air went cold. Our meeting ended in silence, and our once-productive rhythm was over.

Days passed. Then a week. I kept replaying the scene in my head, thinking, She owes me an apology. I was still irritated. I also felt like I was right (or so I thought). But the longer I stewed about it, the more absurd the whole thing became—just like the Elton John lyric. 

Then I realized: the only thing getting in the way of moving forward… was me.

Yes, I had reasons for being frustrated. But I also played a role in how things went off track. I hadn’t been honest about how I was feeling, hadn’t asked for what I needed, and hadn’t shown up with the leadership I simultaneously expected of her.

The truth is, if we want something to change, it must start with ourselves, right?

So I called her. I apologized—sincerely. Not a passive aggressive, “sorry if you felt…” kind of thing, but an actual acknowledgment of how I showed up. I owned my part. I stated I could have done better.

The best part is what happened next: She apologized too. We both audibly exhaled. Walls came down. And we were able to repair our relationship. I can tell you, we are now better than before.

Why is it so hard to say "I'm sorry"?

Because it feels like surrender. Like giving something up. Like admitting we are wrong.

But here’s the truth: apologizing isn’t weakness—it’s leadership. It’s courage. It’s the willingness to put growth and integrity ahead of our own ego and feelings. And in a profession where trust is so critical, that matters more than we sometimes like to admit.

Ask yourself:

• Is there a conversation that still lingers in your mind—and not in a good way?

• Have you been waiting for someone else to apologize first?

• What would it feel like to take the first step, even if you're only partly responsible?

• What impact could that one call or conversation have on your business, your team, your spouse (or your own peace of mind?)

This week, think about a moment you wish had gone differently—a client interaction, a teammate disagreement, even something uncomfortable from years ago. Pick one example, Reach out. Say those two little words.

Leadership isn’t about being perfect. It’s about owning our humanity—and modeling what humility looks like, even when it's hard or uncomfortable to do so.

Elton John had a point: Sorry does seem to be the hardest word. 

But sometimes, it's also the most powerful.