‘I’d like to explain why I was such a monster back then’: six writers on the apologies they wish they’d made

TomAlright, I saw this and had to bring it to you: ‘I’d like to explain why I was such a monster back then’: six writers on the apologies they wish they’d made. What's going through your head?

CarolThat phrasing really sticks out because calling yourself a "monster" feels like a total overcorrection for things like bullying a teacher. The writers named here describe specific acts, like tormenting Ms. Hill or doubting a foster mom, rather than some grandiose villainy. Why do you think people default to those extreme labels when reflecting on their younger selves?

TomI think the exaggeration actually serves a purpose because it clears away the polite excuses we usually make up later. When you admit you were a bully toward Ms. Hill, you stop blaming her teaching style or your own insecurity for the damage caused. It forces us to look at the raw behavior without trying to soften the blow for either party.

CarolBut stripping away the context doesn't automatically mean the apology lands; sometimes dropping all explanation makes the victim feel even more blindsided than before. I'd want to know exactly how these writers balanced owning their actions against giving the people they hurt a clear picture of why it happened. Without that balance, the regret sounds lonely rather than restorative.

TomThat balance is tricky because too much "why" starts sounding like justification anyway. Take the writer who doubted his foster mom's motives; he admits he wanted to understand his anger, but she probably didn't care about his internal logic. She likely just needed him to acknowledge he was wrong, not dissect his psychology.

CarolYou’re right that dissection can backfire, but silence leaves the door open for the hurt person to fill the void with their worst assumptions about intent. In the case of the writer who tormented Ms. Hill, understanding why he lashed out might help her see it wasn’t targeted malice, which changes how she carries the memory. The hard part isn’t choosing between reason and remorse; it’s knowing whether the listener still has enough trust to process both

TomI don't buy that the explanation helps the recipient carry the memory better. For Ms. Hill, knowing the student was insecure doesn't undo years of feeling attacked, and it risks shifting focus to his feelings again. An apology works best when it stops explaining himself and simply validates her pain directly.

CarolStopping the explanation cold assumes the recipient wants absolution, not clarity, and that distinction matters for trust repair. If Ms. Hill is left wondering whether the harassment was random cruelty or calculated punishment, she can’t fully put the incident to rest. A brief note on motive lets her close the file without turning the apology into a therapy session.

TomI’m concerned that framing it as closing a file turns the apology into a transaction where he gets relief once she agrees to move on. The burden shouldn’t fall on Ms. Hill to accept his motive analysis just so he can sleep easier; true accountability means accepting that her closure is entirely outside his control. He needs to be ready to say he does not know if she will ever forgive him, regardless of how well he explains his past.

CarolAccepting that forgiveness is out of reach keeps the apology stuck in the apologizer’s head, making it more about his peace of mind than her healing. If he focuses solely on waiting for her verdict, he ignores the chance to provide the factual record she needs to reconstruct her narrative. Clarity is a gift you give independent of whether she accepts it, ensuring the history reflects what actually happened.

TomTreating clarity as a unilateral gift misses that facts without emotional acknowledgment often land as cold detachment. For Ms. Hill, knowing the precise trigger behind his outbursts doesn't soothe the sting unless he first names the specific harm he inflicted. He has to prove he understands the weight of his actions before any historical correction feels meaningful to her.

CarolNaming the harm is essential, yet doing it without context can make the recipient feel trapped in a loop of being defined by his bad behavior. For Ms. Hill, hearing exactly how he humiliated her allows her to reclaim her own agency, whereas vague remorse leaves her guessing at the boundaries of what he actually did. The goal isn't to justify the terror, but to ensure the record captures the full scope of the damage so she isn't carrying incomplete memories alone.

TomDefining the apology as a way to correct the public record sounds like he’s writing a textbook entry rather than addressing a human being. For Ms. Hill, having the full scope of his cruelty documented doesn’t heal the wound; it just ensures no one forgets how badly he treated her. Real accountability requires admitting that some harms are irreversible, not just that they were accurately recorded.

CarolAdmitting irreversibility stops there creates a stalemate where nothing is done because everything is broken. For Ms. Hill, the specific details matter less than confirming he sees her as a whole person, not just the target of his anger. She needs to hear that he recognizes the lasting impact on her daily life, not just the event itself.

TomThat shifts the focus back onto his perception of her, which defeats the point of genuine accountability. The apology should center on acknowledging the specific, unfixable damage he caused, rather than validating his understanding of who she is now. It forces the dynamic to remain about his insight instead of her actual loss.

CarolYou're right that centering his insight risks making her a prop in his redemption arc. But without naming who she is beyond the abuse, the apology stays abstract and fails to restore her dignity. The balance lies in acknowledging the permanent scar while affirming her identity exists independently of his past actions.

TomThe problem is that "restoring dignity" relies entirely on his subjective interpretation of her current state, which we have zero evidence supports. Until we know if Ms. Hill even wants contact or validation from him, that balance remains a guess dressed up as therapy. We’re debating the perfect script for an interaction that might never happen, ignoring the fundamental uncertainty of her actual recovery.