This week I delivered a keynote during a graduation celebration. I didn't bring a scripted speech. I decided to speak from the heart and talk about something that drove me my entire life. I mean, entire.
Radical accountability. Not sure if everyone liked the message. It can be uncomfortable having to confess that, yes, we can be the ones messing up with our own lives.
We love to talk about freedom. We post about it, hashtag it, slap it on a coffee mug. But most of us are walking around with our wrists tied to a very specific kind of rope, the one labeled "It's not my fault."
It's the traffic. It's the boss. It's the economy. It's my mother (always a strong contender). It's that one email they sent in 2021 that I'm clearly still processing.
Here's the part nobody wants to hear at a dinner party: the moment you stop being a victim of your own life, you actually start running it.
That's what radical accountability is. And before anyone gets nervous. no, it is not the toxic kind where you flagellate yourself in a journal at 5 a.m. while drinking celery juice. It's not blame. Blame is its ugly cousin. Blame is loud and pointing. Accountability is quiet and curious. It asks, "What part of this is mine?" and then it actually answers.
Radical accountability says: I chose the job. I chose the relationship. I chose to say yes when I meant no. I chose to keep refreshing the inbox. I chose the silence. I chose the second glass. I chose the comparison. I chose to stay. Plot twist, if I chose it, I can choose differently.
That's the freedom part. That's the whole trick.
Because if everything is someone else's fault, then everything also requires someone else to fix it. And that is a terrible place to live. You're stuck waiting on a person who doesn't even know they're holding your keys. You can spend an entire decade waiting for your mother to apologize, your ex to admit they were wrong, your boss to finally see you, the universe to send a sign. Spoiler: they're busy, they're not coming, and meanwhile your life is happening without you.
When you own it, you get the keys back.
This isn't a permission slip to be hard on yourself. Please don't make it that.
The accountable person is not the one yelling at the mirror. The accountable person is the one calmly looking at the mirror and saying, "Okay. What did I do here? What do I want to do next?" That's it. That's the whole practice.
The strange gift of radical accountability is that it makes you softer with other people, not harder. Once you know how much of your own mess is yours, you stop expecting everyone else to be flawless. You stop needing the apology. You stop keeping score. You just deal with what's in front of you.
So, here's my offer for the week: pick one thing you've been blaming someone else for. Just one. A sale, a job, one habit, a friendship, a Sunday afternoon. Sit with it for ten minutes and ask the unsexy question: "What part of this is mine?"
You won't love the answer. But you'll be free. And free, my friend, looks really good on you.
If you can't do it alone, call me, I can listen and, promise, I am not going to blame you, just hold you accountable.
Talk soon,
Tati
