A seven-day experiment, the awkward moments to expect, and the sentence that replaces "sorry"

Begin by scanning your sent messages and counting how many contain an apology. Not the sincere ones, the automatic ones: "Sorry for the wait." "Sorry to interrupt." "Sorry, may I add one thing?" Many women in leadership posts in Southern Nevada find the total shocking, and very few of those apologies were for anything that actually required forgiveness.

Here is the trial setup. Starting this Monday and running for seven days, reserve the word "sorry" for situations involving genuine harm, such as a missed deadline that hurt someone or a serious mistake on something that mattered. Every other instance gets a substitute. What follows is a typical day-by-day progression, along with the lines that make it workable.

Across the first two days, you begin to see patterns.

The first revelation is how often the word shows up. It sits in your email openings, your meeting arrivals, the moment you raise a question that was already settled. You will spot roughly half of them as they happen. That is plenty to begin with.

Swaps to try: "Thanks for your patience" in place of "Sorry for the delay." "Let me add something" in place of "Sorry, can I just." "Here's where things stand" in place of "Sorry it took so long."

By days three and four, the exercise starts to feel awkward,

Once the cushioning words drop away, your messages land with a force that may surprise you. Making a direct request in Las Vegas now comes across as simply clear. Fixing an error now reads as the fix it is. Many people quit at this stage, mistaking the unease for impoliteness. It isn't. It's simply a sentence without an apology attached, and your colleagues hear it constantly from the men across the hall.

If you want a softener, pick an honest one: "I appreciate you turning this around quickly" costs nothing and apologizes for nothing. Write the three phrases you use most, along with a replacement for each, on a sticky note at your desk. It seems trivial, and it works, because the reflex moves faster than your intentions do.

By day 5, the rest of the group starts reacting in a different way.

Somewhere near Friday, the replies you get to your requests begin to shift. Replies arrive sooner, and fewer colleagues re-explain things you already grasped. It is subtle, and that subtlety is the point: a sentence that opens with an apology invites the listener to grant something, while one that opens with the substance invites them to act. You might also see which colleagues were fond of the softer wording all along. That is useful information too.

The one guideline that keeps you warm

Don't grow distant. The trial is not about removing warmth; it is about removing the implication that you owe people something for taking up their time. "Sorry" was doing two jobs. Keep the friendliness, but drop the apologizing.

Sorry still belongs in certain moments,

namely when you were at fault and someone bore the cost. Deliver it one time, deliver it completely, and spell out the change you will make. Because an apology is used sparingly, each one carries real meaning.

Explain what is going on

Finish the week, then send us a note describing the hardest moment, the wording you chose in its place, and how things looked 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 really happens at work across the Las Vegas valley and beyond.

Your first move will be to review what you sent. Sorry about that.