Sometimes Saying "I'm Sorry" Is the Ultimate SEAL Team Move for Your Family
There's Power in an Apology
I heard laughing, and then a loud crash and boom that sounded like it came from my guest bathroom.
Oh sh*t.
I walked out to find Madison running for cover, and my youngest, Tyler (18 at the time and every bit of 6’ 3”), looking guilty.
(Photo: Gretchen (mom), Tyler, and I at his high school graduation. I told he was big!)
I stepped in and took a look in my newly remodeled guest bathroom which now looked like unsanctioned UFC fight took place. The sink on the floor, busted wall, cracked tile, and exposed pipes sticking out.
F my life.
My kids will be the first to tell you that I keep my cool, always.
Until I don’t.
And this was one of those times I kinda snapped.
I’d spent a lot of painful days the months prior dealing with that goddamn sink. The score was finally 2-2 and now it looks like Tyler and the sink were up 3-2 on me.
I saw red.
Anyone that has done a remodel or construction knows how hard it can be dealing with contractors.
In this situation, I did not lead with calm clarity and I let the internal pressure valve pop. I barked at him with the kind of lung capacity usually reserved for motivating SEAL students during Hell Week in the freezing Pacific surf.
I saw his face turn red and he shot back with a snarky comment and leaned in on me.
In that split second, I flashed back to my own father-son blow up. The result of that altercation found me kicked out of my home at age 16, and sailing back to Hawaii on a different family’s boat.
I should mention that my father’s father kicked him out at 17 for not getting a hair cut.
I did not want to repeat that pattern.
In the Navy SEALs, if you miss a shot or botch a something up, you own it immediately. You don’t hide or place blame, you f’ng own up to it. I miss that about the Teams…brutal raw honest feedback can be liberating. But many find it uncomfortable.
As parents, we often treat our authority like a fragile glass statue. We think that if we apologize to our kids, we lose the high ground. We think it makes us look weak.
Actually, the opposite is true, it’s a sign of emotional strength.
When you refuse to apologize to your child, you are imprinting a negative loop into their brain. You are teaching them that power means never having to say you are wrong.
That is a recipe for raising a person who will be a terrible leader, and eventually crack under the pressure of their own perfectionism.
If you want to reach the absolute apotheosis (that means pinnacle…thank you word of the day!) of parenting (we all do), you have to model the growth mindset.
You have to show them that even the Old Man can hit the dirt, wipe the mud off his face, and own the mistake.
Don’t be afraid to deploy an apology.
You want to raise a Puddle Jumper (please order my book here) a kid who leaps into life with full-hearted abandon, you have to clear the runway of your own ego.
Here is how you execute an apology.
Take a break if you need to calm down. Let the system reset so you are calm.
Be brutally honest, explain the situation that got you here, and own the behavior. Keep it simple, say you’re sorry.
In my son’s case, I pulled him aside and told him about all my sink troubles. We both laughed. I told him I was wrong to jump all over him. That I was proud of him getting into University of Oregon. I said I was sorry and told him I loved him. We hugged it out.
Saying your sorry is a sign of strength and models good conflict resolution for your kids.
My daughter Madison once told me over dinner in Lisbon that she appreciated me allowing her to be herself. It’s one of the best ROIs of good parenting and that kind of connection does not happen if you spend twenty years pretending you are a parenting god who never screws up. It happens when you show up, own your hits and your misses, and stay consistent.
Parenting is the only mission where, as we say in the Navy SEALs, “The only easy day was yesterday”. If you blew it today, go tell them. It might be the most powerful thing they ever hear you say.



Agree with you, BW. Transparency and demonstrative parenting is the way.