You know what the most overused word in my vocabulary is? “Um”, followed closely by “like.” But removing those conversational crutches that keep me from stuttering or freezing like a deer in headlights when speaking in front of other humans, “Sorry” is the the word I’m most likely to wear out.

Not because I’m perpetually wrong (I’ve been wrong maybe three or four times in my entire life, I’m sure) but because it’s a constant disclaimer I use before my opinions.

And it’s not just me, either. A brief audit of my work sisters showed that we are all saying “sorry” about 367% too often.

We’re saying sorry to the barista when she gives us the wrong coffee, sorry when we disagree with someone’s opinion, sorry when we just don’t want to do something, sorry when there is literally nothing to apologize for.

I’d like to be able to identify this as a Girl Power problem, but have you watched any Minnesota Wolves games lately? Of course you haven’t, but if you had you would see that Kevin Love apologizes to the crowd after nearly every missed shot, and it’s probably as embarrassing as when I find myself apologizing for not agreeing with my friend’s assessment on the Best Donuts In The World.

There are plenty of times when saying the word Sorry is appropriate. For instance, when you hit a person’s car with your car, when you step on your dog’s tail, when you spill coffee on a woman sitting next to you on an airplane who is wearing a white sweatsuit (even though, yeah, she’s wearing a white sweatsuit in public), when your kid bites another kid on the playground or when you accidentally fart in front of your new husband for the first time and he looks like he is ready to flush his wedding ring down the toilet and burn your marriage license in the sink.

But like any other word, Sorry loses its meaning the more you use it out of context. Among his many catch phrases, my Grandfather used to tell us to “say what we mean, and mean what we say.” As a kid, that was lost on me just as much as “take all you want, but eat all you take,” which he would solemnly say to me as I struggled to shovel those last five bites of mashed potatoes down my throat. Now, I think I’ve grown to understand the gravity and importance of the words I use, even if I still need to cut down on my more than liberal use of the F-word.

The point is, our words are important, even when we don’t think that they are, and constantly apologizing erodes our authority in the same way that constantly referring to myself as a dummy or a goofball chips away at how other people view my intelligence. I’m truly not as dumb as I pretend to be, and if you need any proof I will gladly have my mother unearth all of my childhood aptitude tests. Just kidding but not really kidding at all because I have them in a storage unit somewhere.

Do me a favor: pay attention to how often you hear yourself and the people around you say “sorry.” How often do you find yourself saying the S-word?