We Owe Our Kids an Apology
Not for the Mistakes We’ve Owned—But for the Ones We Never Admitted
We expect our kids to apologize, but how often do we show them how? More importantly, do we hold ourselves to the same standard?
Many of us were taught to view apologies as a social obligation—something said to move on, ease discomfort, or evade consequences. However, genuine apologies aren’t about swift resolutions; they’re about healing, integrity, and connection.
Our kids are always watching—how we fumble, deflect, or avoid saying, “I was wrong.” They notice the justifications, the silences, the way pride edges out accountability. But what if they saw something different? What if they saw us owning our mistakes without excuse or ego?
Mistakes aren’t the problem. The real damage occurs when we refuse to acknowledge them. If kids only see us rationalizing or avoiding responsibility, they’ll learn to do the same.
This is why forcing kids to apologize is counterproductive. It prioritizes appearances over accountability, teaching them to go through the motions rather than genuinely repair harm.
The Accountability Our Kids Absorb
Children absorb more than we realize—not only our words but also our actions, our mistakes, and how we respond to them. That’s why accountability isn’t merely something we expect from them—it’s something we must model ourselves.
I’ve seen firsthand how this plays out in our own home.
Our family of three has faced our fair share of challenges, but through it all, we’ve worked hard to create a culture of honesty and emotional safety.
So when Finnley (my oldest, who is away at college) recently apologized for something, it wasn’t just the confession that stood out—it was how she handled it. It was one of those moments that reassured me she has been absorbing the lessons that matter.
She didn’t apologize out of obligation. She apologized because she understood the impact of her actions and wanted to make amends.
And while I’d love to take credit, I know this isn’t about my exceptional parenting—it’s about the environment that all three of us—including my youngest, Scout—work hard to maintain. One where honesty matters, where mutual respect is something we’ve earned— and because of that, we freely give it to one another. And where accountability isn’t just encouraged but lived.
When 'I’m Sorry' Doesn’t Mean Anything
Too often, we tell kids to apologize before they even understand what they’re apologizing for. We rush them into saying the words without giving them a chance to process what happened.
We’ve all been there—a child grabs a toy, and without thinking, we say, "Say you’re sorry!" So they mumble a half-hearted "sorry," eyes down, already moving on. The toy is returned, but what did they actually learn? Not empathy, not repair, just that an apology is the quickest way to stay out of trouble.
Traditional parenting views apologies as a reflex. When a child hurts someone, we expect an immediate "I'm sorry." But forced apologies don’t teach accountability—they teach compliance. Kids learn to say the right words but don't understand why they matter.
And that’s a problem.
A forced apology teaches children:
Apologies are about appeasing someone, not about repairing harm.
If they don’t feel sorry, they should pretend.
The person receiving the apology should accept it, even if it doesn’t feel genuine.
But we all know that’s not how trust is built or maintained.
So, how can we help our kids develop genuine accountability instead of simply demanding an immediate apology? It starts with understanding what a real apology looks like.
The Anatomy of a Real Apology
A meaningful apology isn’t just about saying the right words; it’s about taking responsibility and making things right. When done well, it follows four essential steps: self-reflection, acknowledgment, acceptance, and amends.
Finnley’s apology was a perfect example of this. She didn’t just say ‘sorry’—she acknowledged the impact of her actions, took full responsibility, and followed through to make it right.
1. Self-Reflection: Understanding the Impact
A genuine apology starts before the words are even spoken. It begins with self-awareness—recognizing how our actions impact others. Without this, an apology is merely a reflex, not a true commitment to growth.
Finnley’s text to me was an example of this kind of self-awareness:
"Hey, Momma, I was checking my phone at a red light on my way home from work and got pulled over. I’m so sorry. I obviously know better—it was a stupid mistake."She immediately recognized her mistake and acknowledged it without waiting for me to call her out on it.
2. Acknowledgment: Naming the Mistake
A real apology is specific. It identifies the action responsible for the harm.
Finnley owned her mistake outright:
"I was checking my phone at a red light...I obviously know better—it was a stupid mistake."No excuses, no justifications—just clarity.
3. Acceptance: Taking Responsibility
Taking responsibility means recognizing the full impact of an action—not just on oneself but others as well. Finnley demonstrated this when she said:
"I know that my insurance is probably going to go up because of this, and I just wanted to let you know upfront that I’ll absolutely cover whatever difference there is." 4. Amends: Repairing the Harm
A genuine apology includes action. If nothing changes, the words mean nothing.
Three days later, Finnley followed up with:
"I just got off the phone with the court. My options were to [X] or [Y]. I went ahead and paid [the fine] because I definitely don’t want that on my record. Just wanted to keep you in the loop! Love you!"She followed through. She didn’t just acknowledge her mistake—she took action to make it right.
This is what makes an apology meaningful—an extension of the spoken words in the form of follow-through.
The Truth About Pretending to Be Perfect
Apologies were a part of many childhoods, but we didn’t always see them modeled in a way that emphasized accountability. Instead, we learned that admitting fault often came with justifications—'I was just stressed' or 'I did the best I could.' However, a genuine apology isn’t about defending our actions or deflecting responsibility; it’s about owning our side of the situation.
When we pretend to be perfect, we teach our kids that mistakes should be hidden or excused. They learn that admitting fault is a weakness, that accountability comes with shame, and that their worth is tied to how they are perceived rather than to who they are at their core.
As time passes, children may start concealing their failures, deflecting blame, or feeling pressured to be perfect to gain acceptance. A simple mistake—like spilling a drink or getting an answer wrong—becomes something to justify or deny rather than an opportunity to learn and grow in responsibility.
But what if we flipped that? What if we showed that accountability isn’t a weakness but a sign of strength? If we want our kids to take ownership of their mistakes, we must be brave enough to take responsibility for ours.
Our kids don’t need us to create an illusion of infallibility. They need us to be accountable—to take responsibility, make amends, and strive to be a better version of ourselves than we were the day before.
Our kids follow our example. If they see us owning our mistakes, they will, too. If they hear us say, “I got that wrong,” they will learn that accountability is a strength, not a burden.
What They’ll Carry Forward
Ultimately, our kids will find themselves in situations where we aren’t there to guide them. They’ll need to decide whether to acknowledge a mistake or conceal it, whether to mend a relationship or allow it to fracture. And when that moment comes, they won’t remember what we told them—they’ll remember what we showed them.
Ultimately, it’s not about raising kids who know the right words. It’s about raising kids who can stand in the mess, confront what’s broken, and choose to make it whole again.
Feeling stuck and unsure of your next step?
If the ideas you’ve been reading here resonate but you’re unsure how to make them work in your day-to-day, let’s talk. We’ll work through what’s on your mind and create a clear plan so you can move forward with confidence.
This is good!!! I literally finished writing a piece about parental estrangement (from my personal perspective and professional perspective) today and then I see this. Oh how so many relationships would be different if more parents embodied what you talk about here.
This is a journey I've come to know. I've been on this footpath. I lived in a household within which my lovely mother guided me through invisible crises, ones that she had herself endured and navigated. I knew I needed to be anxious but I didn't know why there were monsters under the bed, because she never told me. Later, I made brutal mistakes in terms of creating parental safety for my children. My stance these days, I messed up. How can I love better?