Echoes of Trauma: When apologies become another form of abuse – An apology can sound like love, feel like relief and still leave the person who received it walking on eggshells. Sometimes, the words “I’m sorry” are not the beginning of change; they are simply the pause before the hurt begins again.
By Lillian Okenwa
She knew the apology was coming.
It usually came after the shouting, the hurtful remarks, the accusations or the long silence that followed. Sometimes he would sit beside her, hold her hands and tell her how much he loved her. At other times, there would be flowers, gifts or promises that he would never hurt her again.
He always seemed to know what to say.
And because she loved him, she wanted to believe him.
For a while, things would improve. He would become kinder, more attentive, perhaps even unusually affectionate. She would begin to relax, allowing herself to hope that something had finally changed. Then the familiar behaviour would return. Another hurt. Another explanation. Another apology.
She had forgiven him so many times that she was beginning to question herself. Was she too sensitive? Was she expecting too much? Should she stop bringing up something he had already apologised for?
What she could not understand was why the same person who seemed so sorry for hurting her kept finding new ways to do it.
There is something deeply exhausting about being hurt by someone who always seems to know how to bring you back with an apology.
In healthy relationships, apologies are necessary. We all get things wrong. We speak carelessly, act selfishly, lose our tempers and sometimes hurt people we genuinely love. A sincere apology allows us to acknowledge the harm, take responsibility and begin repairing the relationship. It does not erase what happened, but it gives both people an opportunity to work towards something better.
The trouble begins when saying sorry becomes a substitute for changing.
Some people seem to have mastered the art of apologising without changing the behaviour that made the apology necessary. They say the right words after an outburst, an insult, a betrayal or an act of cruelty. They may cry, plead, promise and express genuine-seeming regret. But once the immediate tension has passed, the same conduct returns.
The apology becomes familiar. So does the hurt.
For the person on the receiving end, this can be confusing. They remember the tenderness that followed the last incident, the tears, the promises and the relief of believing that the worst was over. They want to believe that the person they love has finally understood the damage being done.
So they forgive again.
In relationships where hurt is followed by affection and apparent remorse, the return of tenderness can keep hope alive. The injured person may hold tightly to the good moments, especially when the relationship also contains genuine affection, shared memories, children, family ties or years of investment. They remember who the person can be when things are good and keep hoping that this version will stay.
But each return to the same behaviour takes something away. Trust becomes harder to give. The injured person may become anxious, watchful or unsure of what to expect. Even during peaceful periods, they may find themselves waiting for the next incident.
There is another kind of apology that can be just as damaging: the one that comes with an instruction to forget.
The person says they are sorry but expects the matter to end immediately. If the injured partner is still upset, they are accused of holding grudges. If they ask what will change, they are told they are refusing to move on. If they mention a previous incident, they are accused of living in the past.
The apology becomes a way of closing a conversation that has barely begun.
This happens in marriages, between parents and children, among siblings and in friendships. A parent may repeatedly speak harshly to an adult child, then dismiss the child’s hurt with a hurried apology and an expectation of unquestioning respect. A friend may betray a confidence, say sorry and become offended when trust is not immediately restored. A partner may apologise for controlling behaviour but react angrily when the other person tries to establish boundaries.
The injured person is left dealing with the original hurt and the added pressure of proving that they have forgiven it.
Sometimes, the apology comes with an audience.
Flowers are sent to the office. An emotional message appears on social media. A public declaration of love is made, or a grand gesture is arranged for friends and relatives to witness. Such gestures can be genuine expressions of regret, but they can also become performances that create an impression of reconciliation without addressing what happened in private.
Everyone sees the flowers. Everyone reads the beautiful message. People praise the person for being thoughtful and making amends. The one who was hurt may feel obliged to smile, accept the gesture and play along, even though the problem remains unresolved.
Soon, outsiders may begin asking why the injured person is still upset. After all, the apology has been made. The gifts have arrived. What more could anyone want?
But the person receiving the apology may not want another bouquet or public declaration. They want the behaviour to stop.
A sincere apology does not demand immediate forgiveness. It does not shift responsibility to the person who was hurt or insist that they restore peace before they are ready. It acknowledges what happened, accepts responsibility and makes room for the injured person to express how deeply they have been affected.
Most importantly, it is followed by an effort to behave differently.
Change may take time, particularly when someone is trying to unlearn behaviour that has become deeply ingrained. But there must be a genuine willingness to do the work. The person must be prepared to listen, respect boundaries, accept consequences and understand that trust cannot be restored simply by saying the right words.
An apology that repeatedly produces forgiveness without any meaningful effort to change can become a way of keeping someone in a harmful relationship. The injured person keeps hoping, waiting and forgiving, while the person causing the harm avoids the difficult work of accountability.
There is a cost to living this way. After a while, the person receiving these apologies may begin to doubt their own judgment. They know what happened, but repeated declarations of regret make them wonder whether they are being unfair by refusing to forget. They minimise the hurt, make excuses for the other person or become reluctant to speak about what is happening.
Some begin to measure the relationship by its better moments, convincing themselves that the person who appears after the apology is the real person, while the one whose behaviour keeps making the apology necessary is somehow an exception.
It can take a long time to recognise that the hurtful behaviour is also part of the relationship they are living in.
Forgiveness is important, but it should not be used to deny the reality of what someone has endured. Forgiving a person does not mean pretending the injury never happened. It does not require immediate trust, unrestricted access or a return to the conditions that made the harm possible. Reconciliation, where it is safe and appropriate, requires more than the willingness of the injured person to forgive. The person who caused the hurt must also be willing to take responsibility and make a sustained effort to change.
Sometimes, creating distance or leaving the relationship may be necessary. Where there is violence, threats, coercion or fear, an apology should never be treated as a reason to disregard personal safety. Seeking help and making a safety plan may be essential.
Of course, not every repeated disagreement is abuse. People can make genuine mistakes, struggle to change and need time to learn healthier ways of relating to others. The concern is a recurring pattern in which hurt is followed by apology, temporary peace and then the same behaviour, with the injured person expected to keep accepting the cycle.
Perhaps the question to ask when someone apologises is not simply whether they sound sorry, but what happens afterwards.
Do they listen when you explain how their actions affected you? Can they accept that trust may take time to rebuild? Are they making an effort to change even when there is no argument, no threat of separation and nobody watching? Or does the apology disappear as soon as they have secured your forgiveness?
An apology should not be a convenient way to escape the consequences of hurting someone. It should be the beginning of taking responsibility.
The saddest part of repeated apologies is that the person receiving them may eventually stop believing the words but continue hoping for the change. They may no longer be waiting for flowers, tears or declarations of love. They are simply waiting for the hurt to stop.
And they deserve more than another promise.
You are not unforgiving because you need to see change. You are not unreasonable because you find it difficult to trust words that have repeatedly been followed by the same behaviour. You can forgive someone and still decide that you cannot continue living this way.
Sometimes, the most honest apology is not another “I’m sorry”.
It is a changed way of treating the person you hurt.
- A lawyer and equity advocate, Lillian is the publisher of Law & Society Magazine. She can be reached at Lillianokenwa@gmail.com. X: @OkenwaLillian.
