I'm not sorry.

I’ve been awesome for the better part of my 27 years on this tragic planet.
I made near-perfect grades. I didn’t drink or have sex in high school. Even after my parents’ divorce. I was never a disappointment. I did things the way I thought I was supposed to. My choice.
I moved to New York City all by myself and continued to be awesome. I was never afraid, never questioned that I could do that life.
I fell out of love with the city and in love with a boy. I moved to Chicago.
Then I broke up with the guy everyone thought I was supposed to marry. (The only two people who didn’t end up thinking that, I believe, were actually him and me.)
I spent the summer afterward making all manner of so-called “bad decisions.” Went through a phase most people get “out of their systems” at 21. Or younger.
I got into an abusive relationship.
I ended it.
(Go me.)
I met the love of my life.
And I got complacent.
My relationship turned stale, and my job become so bland that it nearly drove me crazy.
And I got fed up.
I threw it all away: broke up with him, quit my job.
Were those the right choices? Who knows. But they were my choices.

The past couple of months have been a ridiculous game of double-dutch.
I ran in without looking and have been jumping around furiously just trying to keep the ropes from strangling me completely. I miss a step sometimes and get whipped. Then I start stepping again.
Well, I’ve decided I’m allowed a stumble once in a while. I’ve never played this game before. This is not familiar territory for me.
And sometimes I am not a badass. Not even a little bit.
And I’m not sorry.

I spent most of the time I was with John apologizing. To my family, to my friends, to him. To the world.
I’ve realized a few things recently: I’m not sorry for falling in love with someone old enough to be my father, with two ex-wives and three children.
I’m just not.
I’m sorry for my family that he wasn’t the person they saw me with, that he wasn’t going to provide the life they envisioned for me.
That wasn’t in the cards anyway. This is my life. I’m too weird, too wonderful for a perfect life.

And then.
I spent the last six months of my relationship with John saying I was sorry for being miserable. Apologizing to him. Not to myself. Spending more time trying to fix our relationship and ratchet my sexual appetite back up to an acceptable level than I did trying to fix myself. (How does that work?)
As a last resort, I got the hell out of there. And after I stopped crying, I stopped being miserable. It took a while, but I did.

I’m not sorry for moving in with him, and I’m not sorry for moving out.
The biggest casualty in all that was my wonderful little apartment. I’m sorry to have left it in the hands of a careless stranger.

You should be apologizing to me for expecting me to be anything but who I am, on anything but my time. For treating me like a child while berating me for not being an adult. For calling those selfishly motivated actions love.
I’m not apologizing for those things anymore. No matter what happens.

But I find myself apologizing for lots of other things lately, because it’s what I’ve learned to do to keep the peace.

There’s no reason to apologize to my mother for not having a health-insurance policy in place yet. “Single payer” means one. As in, the only person who needs to worry about this is me.
I’m not going to apologize for being in a strange mood because I can’t afford to refill my antidepressant.
And I’m going to go on believing, unapologetically, that this lack of pills has absolutely no bearing on this entry.

I’m not going to apologize for being stressed out that my commission payments aren’t even a glimmer in my eye.
I’m not sorry for putting continued pressure on people I work with even though their lives are hard, too. I am just trying to get myself up this creek while feeling very much alone and without an oar.

I’m not sorry for turning down invitations for social engagements.
I’m tired and stressed out and broke. And you’re not helping.

I take back my apologies to the ladies working in the Stuart Weitzman store yesterday. I walked in — tail between my legs — to return the pair of $300 navy-blue leather pumps I bought last week at an event.
Really.
They should be apologizing to me for charging $300 for a pair of shoes.
I’m not sorry for changing my mind. (See also, my above statement on being broke.)

No more apologies for the dirty dishes in my sink and the fact that my furniture is covered with an inch-thick layer of dust.
I’ve had more pressing business lately than flitting around my sorry excuse for an apartment with a feather duster.

I often e-mail or text when I should just call.
I’m not sorry for that. Bottom line: I do better with the written word.

I drink too much sometimes.
I eat too much, always.
And I berate myself for both of those things. It’s how I push forward.

I say “fuck” a lot on Twitter.
Sometimes I post inappropriate tweets to the wrong account.
I giggle, gulp, delete them and move on.

I forget to call my mother.
And she rarely calls me.
We’re busy adults, for God’s sake.

I have the spirit of a 12-year-old.
My habits often most closely resemble those of an 80-year-old cat lady.
It’s part of the glory of being me.

I enjoy myself quite a lot. In spite of — possibly because of, in some cases — these things.

I’m done apologizing for not having everything figured out.
Because I’m 27 damned years old, and there’s no reason I should have everything figured out.
No one but me gets to decide whether any of these stumbles are actually mistakes.
Things will turn out the way they’re meant to. And in the end, the only person I answer to is me.

And I’m not sorry for writing a post like this when everyone expects something uplifting and poetic.
Because sometimes, I really just don’t have it in me.

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25 Responses to “I'm not sorry.”

  1. Kyle Rohde Says:

    Love you! 🙂

  2. Viaggiatore Says:

    THIS IS A TERRIFICALLY, DELICIOUSLY AWESOME POST!!
    (and I’m not sorry for yellin’ it.)
    My (stolen) mantra — “never apologize: your friends don’t need it and your enemies don’t believe you anyway”
    ((((HUGS))))

  3. Joe G Says:

    A great and inspiring post. Never apologize for living your life the way you want to, and for doing the things that are right for you.

    That all sounds corny, but I ain’t sorry about it.

  4. Tweets that mention I’m not sorry. | paigeworthy.com -- Topsy.com Says:

    […] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Paige Worthy, Don Hall. Don Hall said: RT @paigeworthy: Blahhhhhghgghghghgh. BLOGGED: I'm not SORRY. http://bit.ly/a7Gr2P […]

  5. Tatiana Says:

    I don’t believe in regrets. Your post resonates with me on so many levels. You so eloquently said a lot of things I am thinking. Press on, my gorgeous and talented friend! Meanwhile, and only when you feel like it, come over to my poor excuse for an apartment for wine, food and chat. Whenever. We should talk. Love and good vibes your way!

  6. Liz Mendez Says:

    LOVE. LOVE. LOVE IT! No apologies, rock on with your fabulous self. Reads as if we were on the same wave length with posts today. Enjoy living and working for yourself, no matter the sacrifices.
    Cheers!

  7. jackson Says:

    Just a thought about your prescription. If you take a brand name medication, you may want to check the the medication’s or manufacture’s website for discounts on your prescription or call the manufacturer’s customer service number. Many manufacturers offer some form of help. For example, I take allergy meds, and they have a coupon on the website that guarantees that I pay no more than $15 per month. This coupon is available to anyone who goes to the website, regardless of income or insurance. Another thing that may be helpful is contacting your doctor.

    You may have explored these options already. If not, it’s worth a try.

  8. Joe Says:

    It’s a powerful feeling to realize that you should spend more time living and less time apologizing for living.

    Thanks for the reminder.

  9. Philip Lackmaker Says:

    I have only been reading you for a short while but I have not come to expect uplifting and poetic all the time. What I have come to expect is honesty and insight and you have not disappointed with this post.
    I, however, have to say sorry to you. I’m sorry I thought you must be older than 27. You write with such maturity and self knowledge that I think I could be forgiven for my error.
    Keep doing what you are doing Paige your words have reached me in London and I am sharing them with everyone I know.

  10. Erini CS Says:

    Thank you for posting this. I’ve gotten to the point where I realize I can’t apologize for who I am or how I live my life. I’m hoping soon I’ll have the strength to stand up and face what has been tearing me down.

    Again, thank you.

  11. Katie Says:

    This post is exactly what I needed to see today… I’m sick of apologizing for things, that frankly I don’t feel bad about!

    You go, girl!

  12. rusche Says:

    actually. this is exactly what i needed to hear. i’m feeling this way too and all sorts of confused. and even though you didn’t plan on it being the perfect post, this couldn’t have been more perfect for me. so thanks 😉

  13. Wardell Says:

    The only time you should apologize is if you realize that you’ve wronged someone else, you should never apologize for making your own life choices (even if they don’t turn out that great), or for not living up to someone else’s expectations. Often the lessons that stick with us are the ones we’ve learned the hard way. “Without a struggle, there can be no progress.”

  14. Amy --- Just A Titch Says:

    This is my first time here, and this post is incredible. What an inspiration. Thank you.

  15. Anonymous Says:

    I not an avid blog reader, but somehow I stumbled across yours today and felt compelled to thank you for your honesty.

    I don’t read many blogs because it tires me to constantly see people’s enlightening philosophies or grandiose versions of their lives. Life has it’s ups and downs, we all make mistakes, and we all find ourselves at one time or another at the end of our ropes – no one is perfect. I admire your genuiness and sincere candor – nothing impresses me more than these qualities. Thank you.

  16. Nina Says:

    This is uplifting and poetic. In a very Billy Collins-esque way, which is really my favorite way to be poetic.

  17. Gabriel Says:

    While I have nothing of real, ardent value to add to your striking, bold, and passionate post, I just couldn’t let there be 13 comments. I’m a bit superstitious, and I only want good luck for you.

    Paige, may the fire in your belly never be quelled by the Maalox of life.

  18. Tom Says:

    Great post, Paige!

    Keep being you & don’t apologize for you are wonderful and fabulous and human.
    Much love to you and keep your chin up 🙂

  19. Deanna Says:

    Darlin, if you’re happy and feel as though you’re in a good place, one at which you arrived by fucking over as few people as possible, then you have no reason to apologize to anyone. And I really do think you’re getting to that point, lack of depression meds be damned. (You may also want to do the Stroger orange card thing. It’s a pain but useful for any state-run medical center. You know, if going to your doctor and/or finding coupons for your scripts online doesn’t work out for you.)

    But I do want to say this because no one else has yet: From reading this entry, you should apologize to yourself for trying to live up to what you once perceived as everyone else’s expectations. The only person you owe a damn thing to is YOU. You get it now, and I’m proud of you for it, even though we don’t know each other all that well and aren’t super close.

    And never, never, never discount the beauty to be found in things typically considered ugly. Perhaps a very modernist POV, but useful in maintaining perspective nonetheless. Poetry lives in the brutal and cruel as much as it does in the lovely and light, maybe even more so.

    Sorry, I had no intention of writing the longest comment ever, but there you have it. Hugs to you, Ms. Worthy.

  20. Dude Says:

    Paige- I think you should apologize to us all for rambling on about your personal life in a way that makes us feel guilty about not being clinical therapists.
    So you have problems that are most likely the consequences of your ill-advised, and immature actions?
    So what!
    “I have the spirit of a 12-year-old.”
    Don’t flatter yourself (for the sake of justifying things and making yourself feel better).
    The fact that you are always so “whoa is me” all the time with these posts tells me you have the mental capacity (emotional control) of an over-privileged 9 year old.
    With that said- I wish you luck with things and hope you feel better soon.
    No apologies.

  21. Brian D Says:

    Dude, really??

  22. Helena Says:

    I love this one. I’m proud to know you, Paige.

  23. Brian D Says:

    @Dude, what I think you mean is “woe is me” not “whoa is me”….right??

  24. just sayin' Says:

    Boy, hindsight is 20/20 with this one, eh?

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