24 Mar Every excuse is a vote for a life i said i didn’t want

A few months ago, I started noticing something about myself. It wasn’t obvious at first. It wasn’t one dramatic failure or some rock-bottom moment. It was more subtle — more mundane, even.

It looked like this: I’d say I wanted to be more focused, more disciplined, healthier, and more creative. But every day, my actions tell a different story. I was pressing snooze, putting off writing, overcommitting to things I didn’t care about, and avoiding the difficult but necessary steps toward the future I claimed to want.

At first, I gave myself the usual reasons: “I’m tired.” “It’s just not the right time.” “I’ll start on Monday.” But the more I listened to myself, the more I started to hear the hollowness in those excuses. And then a sentence came to me that hasn’t left since:

Every excuse is a vote for a life I said I didn’t want.

It stopped me in my tracks. I wrote it down, then wrote it again. I started saying it out loud. Because when I really sat with it, I realised how often I was unconsciously voting for a version of my life that I had already decided I didn’t want to live in. And I wasn’t alone. I started to see it everywhere — in conversations with friends, in coaching calls, in the stories people tell themselves just to get through the week.

It’s easy to believe that the life we don’t want is something that happens to us — the result of circumstances, bad luck, or what other people did or didn’t do. And while those things absolutely play a role, I’ve come to believe that most of us are also quietly choosing that life through a series of small, seemingly harmless daily decisions. The scary part? We rarely even notice it happening.

Let’s say you say you want to be someone who writes more, however, every time you sit down, you tell yourself you’re too tired, too busy or not inspired enough. You say you want to be more present, but your phone is always in your hand. You say you want to be more disciplined, but you don’t have a bedtime, a rhythm, or any plan to support that desire. These moments might not feel significant on their own, but over time, they compound. Each excuse is like a tiny vote. And eventually, those votes start building a life — just not the one you hoped for.

We think of excuses as harmless delays. But the truth is, they’re often just subtle agreements to stay where we are. They protect us from the discomfort of growth. They allow us to keep living within the limits of what’s familiar, even if it’s not fulfilling. And every time we make one — even if it feels justified — we’re reinforcing a version of ourselves we’re actively trying to outgrow.

I’ve had to face this truth in my own life. Last year, I said I wanted to be someone who was fitter, sharper, and more consistent with my creative work. But I was sleeping poorly, eating without intention, and procrastinating more than I’d like to admit. I told myself I needed the “right moment” or that I was just waiting for the energy to return. But the right moment never came. And the energy didn’t return. Because I was voting, day by day, for a life of fatigue and distraction.

So I started changing my votes. Not perfectly, not dramatically — but deliberately. I set a consistent bedtime. I made space for movement and stillness each morning. I blocked out time to write, even if what I wrote wasn’t particularly good. I asked myself, at every small crossroads, What kind of life am I voting for right now?

And that question changed everything.

It reminded me that the life I wanted wouldn’t arrive by accident. It will come because I made a thousand small choices that aligned with it. Because I said no to what was easy and yes to what was meaningful. Because I kept showing up even when I didn’t feel like it. I had to let go of the fantasy that discipline would one day just appear — that I’d wake up with perfect clarity, motivation, and energy. I had to start choosing the life I wanted, even when it felt inconvenient, uncomfortable, or slow.

Of course, there are days when I still mess it up — when I lose focus, give in to distraction, or make the easier choice. But I’m more aware now. I can name the excuse. I can see it for what it is: not just a moment of laziness or weakness, but a subtle rejection of the life I’m trying to build.

This isn’t about being harsh with yourself. It’s not about guilt or perfection or performing some ideal version of who you think you’re supposed to be. It’s about honesty. It’s about recognising the quiet power you hold — to shape your days, and by extension, your future — through the choices you make over and over again.

We all have a vision in our minds of the kind of life we want. It might be peaceful, adventurous, impactful, creative, loving, and free. Whatever it looks like for you, the question is: are you voting for it? Are you structuring your time, your relationships, your habits, and your priorities around it? Or are you quietly voting against it with your excuses?

There’s something empowering about owning this. It means you don’t have to wait for your life to change. You can start changing it in the smallest of ways — by casting better votes. You can do it today. Not because you’ve suddenly become someone else, but because you’ve remembered who you are and what you’re building toward.

So here’s what I want to leave you with:

The gap between the life you say you want and the life you actually live is bridged not by willpower, but by votes. Not all at once. But daily. Quietly. Repeatedly. Through how you show up, what you say yes to, and what you refuse to tolerate anymore.

Start there. Let your life reflect what you truly want — not what’s easy, not what’s familiar, not what you’re afraid of, but what you’ve already declared matters most to you.

You’ll never be perfect. But you can be faithful.

And that, in the end, is how the life you wanted begins to take shape.

Have an amazing week,

M.T. Omoniyi