“Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.”
My Step Nine
I’ve said “sorry” more times than I can count—usually after messing up again or getting caught out. But this was different.
This wasn’t about apology. It was about change. It was about standing in front of someone I had hurt, without hiding behind excuses or shame, and simply saying: “I harmed you. And I want to make it right.”
Some moments were tender. Others, awkward. A few were painful. One person told me to leave and never come back. Another said they’d forgiven me long ago. Most just listened, surprised. I think they could tell this time was different—these weren’t the empty words they’d heard before.
There were also amends I couldn’t make. The harm was too old, the person too far gone, the risk too great. And then there’s my mum, who is no longer alive. That’s where I had to trust my Higher Power—my God—to guide me. The message was clear: live differently. Honour them by treating others with the respect and love I’d failed to show in the past. So I started showing up. Paying debts. Keeping promises. Not just to them—but to life.
One amend I’ll never forget was with my dad. It happened unexpectedly—while I was still on Step Three. We were sitting in his back garden, just the two of us, in the sunshine. It just happened—and it felt right. We talked all afternoon. I told him everything: about the things I’d stolen, the lies I’d told, and how I was to blame for much of what he’d always defended me for. He listened quietly. And then he said, “I knew all the time. But I love you—and I always hoped you’d find your way.” I was blown away.
There are some amends I haven’t made directly—especially to my younger children. I’ve said sorry. But for them, it’s a living amend. I show up every day now, loving them unconditionally—the way my dad loved me.
I’ve completed my first walk through the 12 Steps, but I haven’t finished Step Nine. That journey will continue for the rest of my life. I’ll never force my amends on anyone who doesn’t want them. But I’ll always be ready—when the time comes.
Step Nine isn’t a finish line. It’s a doorway. A path toward peace. Not all relationships will be healed. But I can be. And I can move forward, free.
And by writing this—by continuing to express myself through words and creativity—I’m making my amends to my mum. She always loved my poetry when I was a child, even when I didn’t. So now, every time I create something new, I imagine her looking down with a smile on her face. In those moments, I feel close to her again. And that, too, is healing.
Step Nine Prayer
My God, My Higher Power,
Grant me the strength to face those I have harmed,
Not with pride or shame, but with honesty and love.
Help me to speak with courage and humility,
To offer amends without expectation,
To listen without defence,
And to honour their pain without excuse.
Where I cannot make things right in person,
Guide me to live differently,
To walk in truth, kindness, and responsibility each day.
Let my actions become my living amends.
If the door is closed,
Teach me patience.
If I am not forgiven,
Let me still forgive myself.
And if wounds remain,
Help me heal through service, compassion, and grace.
Thank you for showing me the path to peace,
Not through words alone,
But through change,
And through love made real.
Amen.
From the AA Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions
Step Nine is where preparation meets action. After we’ve named the harm and become willing, now we move towards repair. This is the work of humility in motion. It’s not about relieving our own guilt—it’s about restoring integrity and making right what we can.
Not all amends can be made directly. Some might be impossible, unsafe, or unwelcome. But where it is possible—and where it would not cause further harm—we go forward, with courage, respect, and care.
We don’t do this for applause. We don’t do it to clear our conscience and walk away. We do it as a spiritual practice—part of becoming the person we were always meant to be.
As the Twelve and Twelve puts it:
“Above all, we should try to be absolutely sure that we are not delaying because we are afraid. For the readiness to take the full consequences of our past acts, and to take responsibility for the well-being of others at the same time, is the very spirit of Step Nine.”
This Step asks us to be brave—but not reckless. It demands honesty—but also wisdom. And always, we check our motives: Am I doing this to truly make amends, or to feel better about myself?
Step Nine is not about rewriting the past. It’s about doing what we can, now, to bring healing where harm has lived.
Excerpts from the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous
Big Book – Chapter 6: Into Action, pages 76–83:
“We go to them in a helpful and forgiving spirit, confessing our former ill feeling and expressing our regret. … The spiritual life is not a theory. We have to live it.”
This passage captures the very heart of Step Nine: direct amends, made with humility and a sincere desire to right past wrongs—not to relieve our own guilt, but to live in the truth and to heal what we have broken where possible.
“We go to them…” reminds us that it is our responsibility to take the first step. We don’t wait for the right moment, or for the other person to be ready. We go—because it’s part of our growth, our spiritual obligation.
“…in a helpful and forgiving spirit…” speaks to the posture we must adopt. These conversations are not about justifying ourselves or digging up old resentments. We are there to help bring peace—not just to them, but to ourselves. And just as we seek forgiveness, we also offer it in our hearts. We let go of the bitterness we may still carry.
“…confessing our former ill feeling…” means we own the full weight of our actions, attitudes, and even the emotions that may have fuelled our harm. It’s not just about what we did—it’s about who we were in those moments. There is power in saying, “I was wrong,” without explanation or defence.
“…expressing our regret…” isn’t a shallow apology. It’s a heartfelt acknowledgement of the pain we’ve caused, without demanding anything in return. It’s not about being forgiven—it’s about being honest, being accountable, and being willing to change.
Finally, “The spiritual life is not a theory. We have to live it.” This line is perhaps one of the most grounding truths in the Big Book. Recovery isn’t an idea, a concept, or a philosophy. It’s action. It’s how we show up in the world. How we treat others. How we take responsibility. How we walk through life—not just with words, but with consistent, loving behaviour.
Step Nine calls us to walk our talk. It invites us to become trustworthy again—not by asking for trust, but by earning it. Not by fixing the past, but by living a better present. It is one of the most vulnerable, transformative, and freeing steps on the path of recovery.
The Quiet Door
I knocked.
Not knowing,
if you’d answer,
if you'd shout,
or cry,
or slam the door.
But I came.
Not to fix you.
Not to fix me.
But to name it,
to own it,
to say,
“This was mine.”
You looked at me.
And the silence between us
was heavy,
and holy.
Maybe it’s still broken.
But the door’s open now.
And I will not walk away.
The Homework Bit
Preparation:
Revisit your Step Eight list. For each person:
- Is it possible to make direct amends?
- Would doing so risk harm—to them, to others, or to yourself?
- If not direct, is there an indirect or living amends you can make?
Questions to consider:
- What form should the amends take? A conversation, a letter, repayment, changed behaviour?
- What are my motives? Am I truly trying to make things right?
- What spiritual principles do I need to practise here—honesty, humility, courage, love?
