05/05/2026
Needed this today!
Sometimes we apologize for all the wrong things.
Have you?
In Irish, there’s a quiet word that feels especially important to remember now:
Daonna
(pronounced DEE-un-uh)
It means human. Mortal. Imperfect by nature.
Not machine-like. Not endlessly strong. Not always graceful, productive, patient, healed, rested, or okay.
Just human.
Somewhere along the way, many of us learned to apologize for that.
“I’m sorry I’m tired.”
“I’m sorry I’m struggling.”
“I’m sorry I’m not at my best today.”
And sometimes apologies are necessary. When we hurt someone, when we fail someone, when repair is needed.
But many of us apologize for something much smaller and sadder: for having limits.
For being overwhelmed. For needing rest. For grieving too long. For not carrying every burden beautifully.
And when we constantly apologize simply for being human, something else happens too.
We quietly set the expectation that humanity itself is unacceptable.
We teach our children that exhaustion should be hidden. We teach the people we love that struggling should be apologized for. We teach employees, coworkers, friends, and even strangers watching us that worth only exists in constant strength and constant performance.
And deep down, most of us know that is not the lesson we want to leave behind.
Because every one of us will eventually need grace, patience, and understanding.
But the old Irish stories never asked their heroes to be flawless.
Take Cú Chulainn, one of the greatest heroes in Irish legend. He was fearless in battle, nearly unstoppable.
But he was also deeply human.
He lost his temper. He carried grief. He made tragic mistakes that haunted him. His victories often came tangled with sorrow.
Or look at Fionn mac Cumhaill.
Wise and legendary though he became, many of his stories are filled with loss, uncertainty, and moments where wisdom only came after failure and hardship.
The old tales understood something we forget:
A person does not become worthy by being flawless.
The stories remembered them because they endured. Because they struggled. They weren’t flawless. They weren’t strong at all times. They failed. They made mistakes.
And yet, they kept going while carrying the weight of being “daonna.” Of being human.
There is no life untouched by exhaustion.
No parent who never loses patience. No worker who never burns out. No soul that moves through this world without scars.
Even the oak bends in storms. Even the sea has restless days.
So maybe instead of apologizing for every difficult season, we can begin speaking to ourselves more gently.
“Thank you for being patient with me.”
“I’m doing what I can today.”
“I don’t have my full strength right now.”
“I need rest.”
There is dignity in that honesty.
There is wisdom in recognizing your own humanity before the world forces you to.
So if today you are thriving, celebrate it.
And if today you are surviving quietly, carrying invisible things no one else can see, that too is part of being daonna.
You do not have to earn the right to be human.
You already are.
What is one thing you’ve apologized for lately that maybe never needed an apology at all?
