A seven-day experiment, the awkward moments to expect, and the sentence that replaces "sorry"
Open your sent folder and tally up how many times you said sorry. Not the ones that matter, but the automatic ones: "Sorry for the delay." "Sorry to bother you." "Sorry, can I just add something?" For many women in senior roles, the total is surprising, and very few of those apologies were for anything that actually needed forgiving.
Below is the setup of the experiment, in Florida's own terms. Beginning Monday, reserve the word "sorry" for real harm: you missed a deadline that hurt someone, or you got something wrong that mattered. Every other moment gets a substitute. What follows is a rough day-by-day account of what tends to happen, along with the phrases that make it workable.
Days 1 and 2, you start to hear yourself
What catches your attention first is the sheer frequency with which that small word surfaces. Carrollwood staff will find it at the top of messages, in the opening seconds of a meeting, and tucked ahead of questions that have already been answered. Roughly half of these slips will get past you while you're speaking. That is good enough to start.
Consider swapping "Sorry for the delay" for "Thanks for your patience," trading "Sorry, can I just" for "Let me add something," and replacing "Sorry it took so long" with "Here's the update."
Days 3 and 4, things get uncomfortable
Without the buffer, your sentences hit harder than you are used to. A request reads as a request. A correction reads as a correction. Many people abandon the practice at this stage, mistaking the awkward feeling for impoliteness. It isn't. It is simply how a sentence sounds without an apology attached, and your colleagues hear that tone every day from the men down the hall.
When you want something warmer, choose a sincere line such as "I appreciate you turning this around quickly," which expresses gratitude without apologizing for anything. Write the three sentences you say most often, along with a replacement for each, on a sticky note at your desk. It feels silly, and it works, because the habit moves faster than your good intentions.
By day five, Orlando colleagues begin reacting in new ways.
Right around Friday, replies to your requests start coming back in a different tone. Replies arrive sooner, and fewer people ask you to re-explain things you already grasped. The shift is subtle, and it is the whole point: a message that opens with an apology invites the reader to grant something, while one that opens with substance invites them to act. You might also see which teammates in Tampa Bay or Orlando liked the earlier wording better. That is useful information too.
A single principle that preserves your humanity
Don't let it make you sound icy. This experiment is not about giving up warmth. It is about dropping the implication that you owe people something just for taking up their time. Up to now, the word "sorry" has been shouldering two different burdens at the same time. Hold on to the warmth and drop the apology.
Situations that still call for a real apology
Save it for the times you slipped up and someone in Jacksonville or Carrollwood ended up paying for it. Offer it one time, offer it in full, and name the specific change you plan to make. Because it is used sparingly, a genuine apology keeps its meaning.
Share the details of the incident
Once the week is over, send us a note in Cape Coral / Fort Myers style detail: describe the toughest moment, the wording you chose instead, and how things stood by Friday. We will publish the strongest accounts, with your permission and under your name or anonymously, as the first entries in a new series of reader stories about what actually happens at work across Florida.
Checking your sent messages will be the obvious first step. Sorry about that.