A few days ago, a girl I dated for a year when I was in my teens contacted me via a social network. It came as a surprise. When our relationship ended, I had not behaved well. She was very much in love, I was not. Our feelings for each other at the time were far from mutual. I was well within my rights to end the relationship. Inexcusable, however, was the abject dismissal of how she felt at the time. I remember standing under a streetlamp on a dark night and simply telling her: “It’s over. I met someone else.” She became slightly hysterical, and as she did my attitude hardened, my resolve firmer. In the end I turned on my heel, leaving her standing, distraught. At least, that is how I remember it. There are always different interpretations, even different meanings we make of life events. She may remember it differently.

When she wrote out of the blue, I replayed this scene in my mind and felt ghastly. My 50 year old self would never treat some one like this. Somehow, I had developed a modicum of empathy. But my unconstructed 18-year old self was quite relaxed about being an ass. Yet I am the same person. How could I draw a line between these two different selves and make sense of it? If I had known what I would become, would I have acted that way in the first place? I was ashamed. I contacted her and made a full, unreserved apology.

As I reflect on this small vignette in an insignificant life, I find larger implications. Saying sorry, asking for forgiveness makes one vulnerable. This has no downside. Yet in human affairs we do it so rarely. Why is it so difficult for leaders to apologise, to admit being wrong to “lose face”? Why do we so consistently put our “selves” before others and their feelings? I can share my own feelings having made this apology, as a proxy: it offered, and I feel a sense of relief. It was as if a bit of the closet got cleaned up. I expect nothing from her, no absolution. It is enough to have simply said it.

Leaders the world over carry small burdens, burdens that become cumulative and affect behaviour, leading us to self protect. Write to someone whose feelings you have hurt and apologise. Crossing that small divide heals organisations, teams, relationships and even ourselves.

Cry me a river