To avoid overapologising when you're nervous, save “sorry” for an actual mistake or inconvenience and replace unnecessary apologies with a clear statement, a thank-you or nothing at all. You needn't apologise for choosing a restaurant, asking a question, having an opinion or wanting a date. If you interrupt, arrive late or upset someone, apologise once, put it right and move on. Good manners make romance easier; apologising for your own existence makes every ordinary moment needlessly awkward.
There is a gentleman in a restaurant who says sorry when the waiter hands him the menu.
He says sorry when he asks for tap water, sorry when he moves his chair and sorry for taking twelve seconds to decide whether he'd like the fish.
His date is a lovely woman with an excellent sense of humour. By the time the starters arrive, she has heard seventeen apologies and begins to wonder whether the restaurant has accidentally seated her beside a man on parole.
The gentleman is not rude. Quite the reverse. He wants desperately to make a good impression and has mistaken endless apology for consideration.
If this sounds uncomfortably familiar, allow Monty to rescue your evening from the tyranny of one small word.
What are you actually sorry for?
“I'm sorry” is a useful phrase when you've done something wrong, caused an inconvenience or hurt another person.
It is less useful when you are merely taking up a perfectly reasonable amount of space.
Consider three situations.
You arrive ten minutes late without warning and keep her waiting. An apology is appropriate.
You disagree about whether a film was any good. No apology is required for having different tastes.
You accidentally knock her drink over. Say sorry, help clean up and offer to replace it.
The distinction isn't whether you feel awkward. It's whether your action genuinely calls for a repair.
If your nerves encourage you to apologise automatically, ask yourself: Have I actually done something that needs putting right?
If not, don't manufacture an offence. Your date agreed to meet a person, not a visitor requesting permission to remain on the premises.
The apology hidden inside an invitation
Here is an unfortunate romantic classic.
“Sorry, I know this is probably a silly question, and you're likely too busy, but I was just wondering whether you might perhaps want to go out with me?”
By the time the invitation emerges, it has been wrapped in so many layers of apology that nobody can find it.
Compare that with: “I've enjoyed talking with you. Would you like to go for dinner on Friday?”
The second sentence is neither demanding nor presumptuous. It tells her what you'd like and gives her space to answer.
If she says no, respond warmly and accept the decision. You haven't done anything wrong by making an appropriate, respectful invitation.
There are circumstances in which an invitation itself would be unwelcome—pressuring someone at work, ignoring a previous refusal or interrupting a private moment. In those situations, the solution isn't a more elaborate apology before the question. It's not making that approach.
Where an invitation is welcome, you are permitted to express interest without opening with a confession of guilt.
When “sorry” should become “thank you”
Imagine you're meeting a woman after work. The train is delayed, you've informed her and she kindly agrees to wait.
“Thanks for being patient. I appreciate it,” acknowledges her consideration. If your delay caused inconvenience, a concise apology belongs there too. But you don't need to repeat it six times through dinner.
Or suppose she has listened while you decide between two dishes.
“Thanks, I've decided. I'll have the pasta.”
Not, “I'm terribly sorry, I always take ages, I'm probably being annoying.”
Notice what happens when you use gratitude instead of apologising for a harmless preference. The exchange becomes warmer and more balanced. She's been kind; you appreciate it. Nobody is required to declare a disaster.
You can thank somebody for explaining something, waiting while you find your coat or suggesting another meeting. Genuine gratitude acknowledges the other person's effort without presenting you as a perpetual nuisance.
The man who says “thank you” to a kind gesture offers something pleasant in return.
The man who responds with repeated apologies can accidentally turn the same gesture into a request for reassurance.
You are allowed to have preferences
Nervous apologising often appears when you express a harmless difference.
“Sorry, but I don't really drink.”
“Sorry, I'd prefer somewhere quieter.”
“Sorry, I don't love spicy food.”
There are tactful ways to state these things without suggesting that your preferences require forgiveness.
“I don't drink, but I'd be happy with a lime and soda.”
“It's lovely in here, although I'd enjoy somewhere we can hear one another. What do you think?”
“I'm not great with very spicy food. Shall we choose something we both fancy?”
You haven't ordered her to accommodate you. You've contributed a fact about yourself and invited a shared decision.
Romance becomes absurd when one person works so hard at being agreeable that the other cannot discover what they actually like.
A man who says he enjoys everything may seem easy-going for ten minutes. Eventually somebody must choose the restaurant, and at that point his inability to admit that he hates seafood becomes a spectacularly fishy problem.
The dangerous habit of apologising for your feelings
“I know it's pathetic, but I really like you.”
“Sorry for asking, but could I see you again?”
“I'm probably being stupid, but I had a brilliant evening.”
Stop insulting your own affection before giving the lady a chance to respond.
There is nothing inherently shameful about finding someone attractive, enjoying their company or wanting another date. You can express those things with charm and brevity.
“I really enjoyed tonight. I'd love to see you again.”
“I fancy you. Would you be interested in a proper date?”
The words are direct, not demanding. Their success depends on mutual interest, and she remains free to decline.
If she doesn't reciprocate, accept it without asking her to comfort you for the fact that you asked.
A man may be wonderfully nervous and still communicate like someone who believes his feelings are allowed to exist.
There's quite enough romantic uncertainty already. No need to add a public apology for the presence of your heart.
What if you've genuinely made a mistake?
Let's give our enthusiastic apologiser a real problem. He interrupts his date while she's telling him about her new business. He realises halfway through that he has been talking over her.
This is an excellent moment for an apology.
“Sorry, I interrupted you. Please finish—I want to hear it.”
Then stop speaking and let her finish.
If you made a joke that upset her, don't bury the moment beneath claims that she misunderstood. Say that you're sorry, acknowledge what you did and behave differently.
If you spill something, offer practical help. If you're late, apologise promptly and avoid making the entire evening about your shame.
One sincere apology followed by an appropriate repair is usually more useful than a magnificent five-minute speech that demands forgiveness.
Of course, if you've caused serious harm, an apology may not be enough. The other person decides whether they want to continue.
Manners are demonstrated through what you do next, not the number of times you repeat a particular syllable.
Flirting needs room for a little mischief
Picture a small jazz bar. She's just made a brilliant, outrageous joke about your taste in music. You could respond with “Sorry, yes, my taste is terrible,” and leave the moment there.
Or you could smile and say, “An astonishing accusation from a woman who admits she owns a novelty ukulele.”
If the teasing is mutual and welcome, there's room for a lively exchange. You aren't attacking her; you're playing along.
Overapologising can turn every harmless difference into something heavy. Yet you don't need to be perpetually correct or agreeable to be considerate.
If your teasing lands badly, stop and put it right. If she laughs and counters with something even more ridiculous, splendid. Continue at a pace you both enjoy.
A gentleman can be polite without surrendering every ounce of mischief. Indeed, a completely apologetic flirt is rather like a champagne bottle that keeps saying sorry for making a pop.
Where's the fun in that?
Notice what repeated apologies ask her to do
Suppose you say sorry for speaking, sorry for being shy and sorry for telling a story that she actually enjoyed.
She may begin responding: “It's fine, honestly,” “You don't need to apologise,” or “Really, you're not bothering me.”
A little reassurance is part of any human relationship. But if every exchange requires her to insist that you're allowed to be there, you're putting an unexpected responsibility on the date.
Instead, notice when she's already responded positively. If she asks a follow-up question, answer it. If she laughs, enjoy the laugh. If she accepts the invitation, help arrange the outing.
You needn't demand confirmation that she meant each kind response.
And remember your own attention to her. Is she having a good time? Does she feel free to disagree? Can she speak without being interrupted? Are you interested in who she is beyond her assessment of you?
Good conversation has enough room for both people. Constant apologising can quietly draw the attention back towards your nervousness.
A perfectly serviceable replacement for “sorry”
Try a few natural alternatives in the situations where an apology isn't required.
When she explains something unfamiliar: “That's interesting. I didn't know that.”
When you need a moment with the menu: “Give me a second; both look excellent.”
When she compliments you: “How kind of you. I'm rather pleased you noticed.”
When you choose a different date activity: “I'd prefer the gallery. Would that suit you?”
When you discover you have opposing opinions: “I see it differently. Tell me why you like it.”
These are not enchanted phrases, and there is no need to rehearse them at home like lines in a school play. They demonstrate a principle: use the words that match what has happened.
If a real apology is called for, make it. If you're expressing gratitude, say thanks. If you have an opinion, offer the opinion.
And if there's nothing that requires explanation, you may simply smile.
The trouble with trying to quit all apologies
You might have seen advice declaring that confident men never apologise. Absolute nonsense.
A man who knocks someone's drink over and says, “I refuse to say sorry; it's a sign of weakness,” is not a romantic hero. He's a ghastly dinner guest with very wet trousers.
The goal isn't fewer apologies for the sake of a number. It's better ones.
Being honest about a mistake requires confidence. So does acknowledging that you've inconvenienced someone or misunderstood a boundary.
If you're genuinely in the wrong, make a specific apology and allow her a choice about what follows. Don't try to squeeze forgiveness out of her by performing endless remorse.
If you're not in the wrong, don't invent a fault simply because the silence feels awkward.
Both habits require the same quality: treating the person opposite you with respect while remembering that you also deserve ordinary courtesy.
Let the lady enjoy her dinner
Our apologetic gentleman reaches dessert. The waiter asks whether he'd like coffee. He opens his mouth to apologise for something, catches himself and says, “Yes, please. An espresso would be lovely.”
His date smiles. She asks whether he's enjoyed the evening.
“I have,” he says. “Especially your story about the disastrous sailing holiday. I'd love to hear the sequel.”
Not one apology. Just a sincere answer and a little romantic enthusiasm.
She may fancy him. She may be enjoying a pleasant evening with a fellow who isn't quite her type. Neither possibility requires him to apologise.
Save the word for the times it belongs. Thank people when they've been kind. Tell the truth about what you'd like. Be a gentleman who can take responsibility for his mistakes without apologising for the very act of being alive.
And should you spill the espresso over the tablecloth, darling, that is an occasion on which Monty heartily recommends saying sorry.