My latest from Salon

A few days ago on the subway, I triptvped over the foot of a dude casually draped across his seat. And those two horrible words sailed out of my mouth faster than my palms hit the floor. I’m sorry. Rather than directing my anger at the manspreading offender, I claimed the fault and hated myself for it.

 The apology is the punctuation to the female sentence. Though we’re experts at chastising each other for the behavior, we can’t seem to stop. Even science says we do it too much. Every day I watch as women apologize to me for doing their jobs. For sweeping under my table at the coffee shop, or not returning a phone call during an important meeting. It’s an epidemic where we’re all patient zero.

Read the rest here.