Own your shit. There’s a certain amount of power that comes from wearing what you are proudly and not apologizing for it—that last part is the bit I have trouble with. My speech is generally laced with sorries for things I have no business being sorry for.
The weather’s turning shitty? Sorry.
You walked into the door and scraped your elbow? Sorry.
Stuck in traffic? Sorry.
You don’t like the sound of children’s laughter? Sorry.
Only I’m not sorry about any of these things. Do I feel bad that you may be disappointed and/or perturbed about something that’s going on? Sure. But I don’t need to take on your shit and make it my own. I don’t have to apologize.