Liar, Liar

On personal accountability, and promises we make to ourselves.

Let’s talk about personal accountability, shall we? Because no matter what goals we set for ourselves – business, health, retirement – if there’s no accountability, what’s even the point?

When I talk about personal accountability in the present context, I’m not talking about following instructions from someone else. Not a boss, a partner, or some external authority figure. What I am talking about is keeping the promises I make to myself. The ones that don’t come with applause, just a personal sense of “yes, okay, I’m on the right path with this.” Promises that look like, “I won’t overextend myself on this project,” or, “I’ll protect my peace, even if it means disappointing some people.”

Personal accountability, as I understand, is agency and ownership without shame or guilt. It’s being able to say, “I chose this,” and stand by that choice. And by extension, it also means, “That didn’t go as planned,” without spiraling into guilt, self-criticism, or dismissing myself as unreliable or more cruelly, a liar. Apparently, those two things can coexist. Owning up without beating yourself up. Who knew. Certainly not my high-functioning, constantly wired-and-tired, 20-something self who spiraled into self-blame and toxic self-criticism bordering on abuse every time something went even slightly off-track.

This last week I was reminded multiple times, through my own decisions and actions, that knowing all this intellectually doesn’t magically make old patterns disappear.

It all started last Tuesday. I had been working all day on some tasks that needed my urgent attention, and some not so much. By around 6:30 pm, my brain was done. I was physically exhausted and clearly past the point of making good decisions. I still had things left on my list, but I could feel that familiar limit approaching — the one where “just pushing through” stops being helpful, and starts being unkind to my body and mind. So, I did the sensible thing. I decided to stop for the day, come back to it the next morning with more energy, and not wreck myself in the process. I was so pleased with this decision that I even posted a “note” about it on my Substack, something about seeing progress through a more informed lens. Look at me! I have achieved GROWTH™!

But then…I didn’t stop.

(Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash)

I kept working. Until about 10:30 pm. I delayed dinner, which is not a small deviation from routine for me, but something that can cause my chronic illness to flare up. And yet there I was, hunched over work, fully aware that I was breaking a promise I had literally just made to myself and announced to the world earlier that same evening. The worst part? I was enjoying it! The rush of “staying on top of my work” was muting every other signal my brain and body were sending me.

The next morning, I felt drained mentally and physically. I had borrowed more energy from my body and mind than I could pay back in a night. And yet, once again, I ignored how I was feeling to go back to working the same way – hunched over for hours on end without getting up to stretch. Parched, hungry, a bit too warm, but not registering any of it.

The full impact of my actions revealed itself the morning after, when my bones ached, my head hurt, and I felt overstimulated and on edge. I was completely dysregulated and spent the day in my bed, blackout curtains drawn, my phone set to ‘Do Not Disturb,’ my husband banished to “anywhere but here,” and dependent on painkillers to get me through the day.

This is the part of “personal accountability” that I want to talk about. Naturally, we like to imagine that once we make a good decision aligned with our values or goals, the journey ends there. That once a decision is made, our behavior changes, and we fall in line. So many productivity gurus and life coaches say this over and over: “Define your why, and you will start showing up” or “Name what’s important to you, and you will start aligning your actions with it.” In reality, old habits have a way of reappearing like they pay rent. Simply being aware of our patterns, habits, excuses doesn’t evict them from our system. Sometimes they show up even after we’ve named them, created a plan, and publicly committed ourselves to a different way of doing things. Some patterns are old and stubborn and very well-rehearsed. They are embedded so deep in our subconscious and our way of doing things, that we don’t usually realize that we’re repeating them until much later.

Does that diminish the work we put into identifying old ways and committing to change, or make a liar out of us? Or does it show us where we are lacking in vision (not willpower, not desire, but vision) and encourages us to be more vigilant?

Here’s the distinction I’m trying to learn to recognize: breaking a promise to myself is not the same as being irresponsible or dismissive of myself. It simply means my brain chose to prioritize something else in the moment. It also means that the habits I learned over the years as a means of survival have solidified into patterns that repeat when I’m not being careful.

Having recognized that it was an old pattern that threw a wrench in my plan, the next step is to take ownership of it without punishing myself by being over-critical. Self-criticism and despair only lead to a spiral of shame and guilt, and do nothing to guide us back onto the path we chose for ourself. Instead, what’s needed at this point is honesty and clarity. I can say, “I intended to stop but I didn’t. I can see exactly where I veered off chart.” I can acknowledge that continuing to work late despite promising a ‘hard stop’ was not aligned with my stated priorities or my health. I don’t need to sugarcoat it, but I also don’t need to turn it into a courtroom drama where I’m the accused, the prosecutor, and the judge.

And then, I can decide to recommit to my plan and get back to trying.

With that said, I hope I can learn how to stop my old patterns from repeating without getting exhausted by the effort of it, especially now that I’m trying to rebuild my life to reflect my values in earnest.

Recognizing a pattern and interrupting it are two different processes, and the work doesn’t stop with only recognizing or naming a habit, a feeling, an urge, or a pattern. That’s just the beginning.

Before I go, I want to leave you with this quote from Aristotle which has taken up a lot of real estate inside my head this week:

For the man who loves truth, and is truthful where nothing is at stake, will still more be truthful where something is at stake; he will avoid falsehood as something base, seeing that he avoided it even for its own sake; and such a man is worthy of praise. He inclines rather to understate the truth; for this seems in better taste because exaggerations are wearisome.

With love,

Ray from Designed Differently

P.S. Writing personal essays help me make sense of my life, its beats and patterns, and the world in which I exist. It my writing helps you process your thoughts, too, I would love to hear about it. DM me or leave a comment. Thanks!