The Promises We Keep for Everyone Except Ourselves

I’ve been thinking a lot about promises lately.

Not the big, dramatic ones.

The little ones.

I’m going to drink more water today.

I’m going to move my body.

I’m going to go to bed earlier.

I’m going to take a break before I’m completely depleted.

I’m going to stop abandoning myself to make everyone else comfortable.

And I started wondering:

Why is it that so many of us will move mountains to keep a promise we make to someone else, but negotiate the heck out of the promises we make to ourselves?

Tell your boss you’ll have something done by Friday? You’ll figure it out.

Tell your friend you’ll meet her at 6? You’re there.

Someone needs help? Somehow you find the energy.

There’s an appointment, deadline, obligation, expectation?

Handled.

But when the commitment is to ourselves?

I’m tired.

Tomorrow.

I’ll start Monday.

This week has been crazy.

I already messed up today, so what’s the point?

And listen, I know this pattern intimately.

I’ve made incredible progress. And I’ve also gotten inconsistent.

Over the past year, I’ve released more than 60 pounds.

That matters to me.

Not only because of the weight, but because I want a life where my body doesn’t feel like the thing keeping me from experiencing it.

I want to feel strong.

I want to hike.

I want to walk farther without wondering if I can.

I want to ride my bike.

I want to lift weights.

I want energy.

I want to fuel my body with foods that actually support me.

And yet, over the past few months, I stopped being as consistent with some of the things I know make me feel good.

I wasn’t necessarily overeating. But I wasn’t really fueling myself, either.

Movement became sporadic.

Hydration could have been better.

And I kept having these little conversations with myself:

Tomorrow.

Next week.

I’ll get back to it.

Nothing catastrophic happened.

But something quieter was happening.

I was teaching myself that my own word was negotiable.

And that realization hit differently.

Your brain is paying attention to what you repeatedly do.

There’s a reason breaking promises to ourselves can feel bigger than missing one workout or abandoning one morning routine.

Our brains learn through repetition.

When we repeatedly pair an intention with an action…I said I would do this, and then I did it, we reinforce that pattern. Habits become easier when behaviors are repeated in consistent contexts, and following through gives us evidence of our own capability.

Self-efficacy, the belief that we can actually execute the actions necessary to accomplish something, is shaped in part by our experiences of successfully doing the thing.

In other words:

Every time you follow through, you give yourself another piece of evidence that says, “I can trust me.”

The opposite can happen, too.

When we repeatedly make enormous declarations to ourselves and repeatedly abandon them, we can start expecting ourselves not to follow through.

Not because our brain has created some permanent file labeled UNTRUSTWORTHY HUMAN. 🤣

But because our expectations are influenced by our experiences.

Think about any relationship.

If someone told you every day:

“I promise.”

And then repeatedly didn’t show up?

Eventually, the words wouldn’t mean very much.

So why would our relationship with ourselves be completely different?

This isn’t about becoming more disciplined

This is where I think we can get it wrong.

The answer isn’t:

BE HARDER ON YOURSELF.

It isn’t punishing yourself because you skipped a workout.

It isn’t forcing yourself through illness, exhaustion, injury or genuine need for rest just so you can say you “didn’t quit.”

And it definitely isn’t making seventeen new promises tomorrow because you’re pissed at yourself for breaking yesterday’s.

Because rest can be keeping a promise to yourself.

Changing the plan can be keeping a promise to yourself.

Listening to your body can be keeping a promise to yourself.

The deeper question is:

When I tell myself I matter, do my choices reflect that?

That’s the part I’m paying attention to.

So this week, I recommitted to myself.

Monday was Day 1.

I hydrated AF. 😂

I fueled my body.

I moved, even though I didn’t particularly want to.

And I took a picture.

Not an “after” picture.

Not even really a “before” picture.

A right-now picture.

Because this is where I am.

I’m not where I once was.

I’m not where I see myself going.

I’m here.

And I refuse to make this version of me something I have to be ashamed of while I work toward the next one.

Then Tuesday came.

And Tuesday tested the whole damn theory. 😂

It was almost 7:30 p.m.

I hadn’t worked out.

I did not want to.

And I could feel that familiar negotiation starting.

It’s late.

You can do it tomorrow.

Two days doesn’t matter.

Except this time, it did matter.

Not because one Tuesday night workout was going to dramatically change my body.

It mattered because I told myself I would.

So I moved.

And when I finished, the thing I felt proudest of wasn’t the calories burned or minutes completed.

It was this:

I kept my word to myself.

Maybe we need smaller promises.

I think sometimes we destroy our own consistency by making promises that require us to become a completely different person overnight.

Starting tomorrow:

Wake up at 5.
Workout six days a week.
Drink a gallon of water.
Never eat sugar.
Journal.
Meditate.
Meal prep.
Read.
Sleep eight hours.
Build the business.
Fix your entire fucking life before breakfast.

No wonder we quit.

So my recommitment isn’t about perfection.

It’s about making promises small enough to keep and meaningful enough to matter.

Today, I can hydrate.

Today, I can fuel myself.

Today, I can move my body.

Today, I can listen when my body asks for something.

Today, I can do one thing my future self will be grateful I did.

And tomorrow?

I get another opportunity.

I want my word to mean something to me.

That’s really what this season is about.

I have spent a lot of my life being dependable.

Responsible.

The one who figures it out.

The one who shows up.

The one who handles shit.

And there is nothing inherently wrong with being that woman.

But I don’t want everyone else to receive the most trustworthy version of me while I get whatever is left.

I deserve my follow-through, too.

So I’m rebuilding that relationship.

One glass of water.

One meal.

One workout at 7:30 at night when I would rather sit my ass down….

One boundary.

One moment of listening to myself.

One promise at a time.

Not because I’m trying to prove that I’m disciplined enough.

Because I want my brain, my body, and every part of me to begin collecting new evidence:

She listens to me.

She takes care of me.

When she says we’re going to do something, I can believe her.

And maybe that’s the invitation for you, too.

Not to ask yourself what you need to completely overhaul.

But:

What is one small promise you could make to yourself today, and actually keep?

Make it small.

Make it yours.

And then give yourself the experience of following through.

Because maybe self-trust isn’t something we magically find.

Maybe it’s something we build.

One kept promise at a time. 🤍