Why I apologize before I even ask a simple question

Syel · 8 September 2026

It's three in the afternoon. You type "sorry to bother you" before you've even written your question. You reread it, cut a word, add "if you have two minutes".

The question fits in one line. The apology in front of it takes three. Outside your manager's office you rehearse the sentence before you go in, you knock, you step halfway through the door with one foot still in the hallway. On the phone you start with "I know you're busy" before saying why you called. Even with your sister, in her kitchen, you say "this is silly, but" before asking if she can watch the kids Saturday. All that care for ten words gets to me.

It isn't the question that costs you, it's the room it will take up in someone else. You've already worked out how long it will take them, whether the moment is right, whether you could have found the answer alone. Asking, in your head, is taking something from someone who didn't offer. So you pay it back in advance. And the question comes out so small it's barely heard.