With skis on and with a high heart rate, I was stopped by a guy in the middle of the ski slope. I experience the unthinkable. First let me take you back a bit. I grew up in beautiful natural surroundings. Beautiful mountains, Glomma, moose and forest. What happened at the school in Alvdal, however, was not postcard-friendly. At school and on the football field, I never fit in. Being gay and weird like that is not a recipe for success to become the king of the schoolyard or captain of the football team. I didn’t have a best friend. I walked around and was the one smiling and pretending to be happy but not feeling well. I have in many ways repressed the years at secondary school, but I cannot forget something. The boys, especially the ones who walked over me, were like the dreaded Voldemort to Harry Potter. As soon as they approached, or I knew they were near, the air could freeze to ice. It was especially like that when I played football. In the dressing room the aim was to make myself as small as possible, and on the pitch I didn’t feel like part of a team. The others had something I didn’t have – namely, the head and chest raised. I was snowballed at, punched in the stomach and always chosen last. Still, the words and looks were the worst, or perhaps the absence of these. A situation that has stuck with me is when I overheard the 91-year-olds, one year older, talking about me at lunch. The door to the classroom was ajar, and I heard them say: “Martin is so gay, who does he think he is?” It was a moment in life where time stopped. Martin Homo There were four of us who had the same first name in the class. Unfortunately for me, my surname is Holmen. That meant that I got Martin H. as an abbreviation. And creative youth minds turned the h into homo, and suddenly I had the catchy name Martin Homo. For a period I also got my own wardrobe, because I didn’t want to shower with the other guys. I was afraid to go to the dressing room in the basement with the others. Uncertainty became my companion. When I visit home in Alvdal, I hope I don’t run into any of the bullies from that time. I’m a bit wary. On the third day of Christmas, at mum and dad’s house in Alvdal, it happens. On the ski slope, heading towards me, I recognize one of those who bullied me the most. There is no one else on the slopes, and all around us nature is completely silent. As we cross, I say hello, a bit out of habit and without thinking, because I greet everyone when I ski. Behind me I hear a “halla”. A few rounds later we meet again. We nod to each other and cross. Then suddenly I hear someone coming quickly behind me. “Martin wait, there’s something I have to tell you!” I turn, and there he comes. In that short time, I manage to get scared, and have flashbacks to my secondary school days. What will happen? The writer on the ski slope at Alvdal. Photo: Mari Holmen I go out to the side, stop and meet his gaze. Then he says, “It’s something I’ve been thinking about lately.” He looks at me and takes a breath. There is no wind. The birds shut up. “Sorry for being a jerk to you in middle school. I didn’t behave well, and I want to apologize for that. Sorry, Martin.” I don’t understand what’s going on. What a force! What I was so afraid would happen just a few seconds ago, did not happen. Here I am standing on a ski slope and am speechless with relief, but also excitement. It takes a huge backbone and not least lots of courage to do something like that. How should you say sorry There are many people who could have needed an apology. And there are so many words to say that you have “dreti on the move”: sorry, sorry, excuse me, omforladelels. Could it be that the person who should say sorry also needs to say it? Reconciliation is mutual. You have to put something in the pot. This means that you, who receive the apology, must also be able to accept it. It can be difficult, because you have felt wronged for a long time. It is easy to understand. But you have a choice. We bow our heads If I say shame, you might think of Nora, Even and Isak. If you too have been bullied, you may, like me, have felt shame. But many of those who have treated others badly also feel shame. Did you know that if we feel shame, we bow our heads? In the book “The six big feelings”, the authors write that shame affects the blood flow and the muscles in the neck, and this can cause the head to hang automatically. It’s as if evolution helps you show others that now you want to hide. My psychologist says that shame can also be vitalizing. If you accept that something has been shameful, you will feel that it can give you energy. When I got the apology on the ski slope, I said thank you. I could also tell him to go to hell. I could think that he didn’t really mean it, that he should have come up with it a long time ago, that this is too late. That it wasn’t a real apology. I could have remained bitter, but since I accepted the apology, I actually felt a great sense of relief. I breathed more freely. This is the power of apology. Most of us have been a jerk at one time or another. Because let’s be honest. Not everyone is Solveig Kloppen. And if you’ve been an asshole, one of the nicest things you can do is say sorry. It’s good for you, and may mean more than you might think to the other person. In retrospect, I have thought about how much an apology can mean. Sometimes only one person is enough. Nothing more is needed. We get on in life, but it helps to have an apology along the way. The next time I’m at Alvdal, I’ll walk with low shoulders and my head raised a little higher. Also read:
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The Power of Apology – Utterance
