The Story We Tell Ourselves
Every man has a story running in his head about why things are the way they are. The job didn’t work out because the boss played favorites. The relationship fell apart because the other person was impossible. The health slipped because life got too busy. Some of those things may even be true. But there’s a problem with building your identity around them: the story becomes a wall. And walls don’t move.
Excuses feel like explanations. They’re not. An explanation is honest — it looks at what happened and tries to understand it. An excuse is something different. It’s a story designed to protect you from responsibility. And the more you reach for it, the harder it gets to put it down.
Why Excuses Feel So Good
It helps to understand why we make excuses in the first place. It’s not weakness, exactly. It’s actually a pretty natural response to discomfort. Psychologists call it self-serving attribution bias — the tendency to credit yourself for successes and blame outside forces for failures. Research consistently shows that most people do this automatically. It protects the ego. It keeps self-esteem stable in the short term.
The trouble is that short-term comfort often costs long-term growth. Every time you hand off the blame, you also hand off the power to change things. If the problem is always out there — the economy, the timing, other people — then the solution is always out there too. And that puts you in a permanent waiting room, hoping circumstances will improve on their own.
Understanding this is not about beating yourself up. It’s about recognizing a pattern so you can interrupt it. The first step out of excuse-making isn’t self-hatred. It’s honest self-observation.
What Accountability Actually Looks Like
People hear “take accountability” and sometimes picture a harsh, punishing kind of self-criticism. That’s not what real accountability looks like. Real accountability is calm and practical. It asks one simple question: What part of this did I control, and what would I do differently?
Marcus Aurelius, writing to himself in his private journals, wrestled with this his whole life. He was a Roman emperor — one of the most powerful men in the ancient world — and he still spent years reminding himself to focus on what was in his control and let go of what wasn’t. In the Meditations, he comes back again and again to the idea that our choices and responses are our own, even when everything else is chaos. That’s not weakness. That’s the hardest kind of discipline there is.
Accountability doesn’t mean you caused every bad thing that happened to you. Life is genuinely hard, and some situations are genuinely unfair. But even in unfair situations, there is always something you can do. The question is whether you’ll look for it or look away.
The Cost You Pay Without Noticing
Excuses don’t just stall growth. They quietly erode something deeper: your confidence in yourself. Every time you explain away a failure instead of learning from it, you send yourself a small message — I can’t handle the truth about this. Over time, those messages add up. You start avoiding hard things not because they’re actually beyond you, but because you’ve practiced avoiding them for so long that it’s become a habit.
Epictetus, who was born a slave and eventually became one of the most respected teachers in the ancient world, had a sharp take on this. He taught that the only thing truly in our power is our own reasoning and our own choices. Everything else — reputation, outcomes, other people’s actions — is outside us. When we blame those outside things, we give them power over us. When we own our choices, we take that power back.
This isn’t just ancient philosophy. Modern research on self-efficacy — your belief in your own ability to affect outcomes — shows that people who take responsibility for their results are more likely to persist, adapt, and succeed than those who attribute outcomes to luck or other people. The mindset shapes the behavior. The behavior shapes the life.
Breaking the Pattern in Everyday Life
So how do you actually change this? Not with a sudden transformation, but with small, consistent shifts in how you talk to yourself and others.
Start by catching the language. Excuses often hide in certain phrases: “I would have, but…” or “I didn’t have a choice” or “It’s not my fault because…” When you hear yourself say something like that, pause. Ask: is this true, or is it comfortable? Sometimes it really is true. But often, if you’re honest, there’s a choice hiding in there somewhere.
- Own small things first. If you were late, say you were late — not that traffic was bad. If you forgot something, say you forgot — not that you weren’t reminded. Small ownership builds the habit for bigger moments.
- Separate what happened from what you did about it. You’re not responsible for every circumstance. You are responsible for your response to it. That distinction matters.
- Ask “what’s next?” instead of “why me?” One question opens a door. The other closes it. Practice moving to the next question quickly.
- Talk to someone honest. A good friend, a mentor, a family member who respects you enough to tell you the truth — these people are worth their weight in gold. Seek them out.
None of this is easy. It requires you to sit with discomfort instead of explaining it away. But the discomfort is temporary. The growth is lasting.
The Kind of Man You’re Becoming
There’s a version of you that always has a reason things didn’t work out. And there’s a version of you that looks honestly at what happened and figures out the next move. Both paths are available every single day. Every small choice about whether to own something or explain it away is a vote for one version or the other.
You don’t have to be perfect. No one is. But you can be honest. And honesty — with yourself first — is where real change begins. The man who can look at his own failures squarely, without flinching and without excusing, is the man who actually improves over time. Not because life gets easier. Because he gets better at handling it.
Today, pick one thing you’ve been making excuses about. Just one. Look at it honestly. Ask what you could do differently. Then do that thing. That’s enough to start.
Sources
- Aurelius, Marcus. Meditations. c. 170–180 AD.
- Epictetus. Enchiridion. c. 125 AD.
- Bandura, Albert. “Self-Efficacy: Toward a Unifying Theory of Behavioral Change.” Psychological Review, 1977.
Articles like this are shared by Blue Lodge Supply — offering apparel, gifts, and goods for those who value tradition, character, and craftsmanship.
