A few years ago, I could swear I was the king of excuses. Every mistake I made, I crafted a perfect excuse to help me by pass the repercussions that the mistake I made could tag along. It was easy and life was smoothly sailing, everything was falling in place, and my pile of lies had grown recognizably.
I lost a few friends, and some of my relationships were dropped in a pit, but I didn’t stop. It was like a game, a game of the comfort zone and selfishness- Yes, all I cared about was my fix, my happiness, regardless of whether my excuses put an innocent person in the line of fire. I didn’t give a fuck!
Later in life, being responsible for myself after I left my parent’s house, it dawned on me that if I came up with an excuse for every wrong that I did, it wouldn’t be so long when I carry my bags and go back to my parent’s house.
I had to get aggressive, I had to dump all the excuses and work to better myself, the heck, I had to stop being mean and selfish. “We all complement each other in one way or the other,” I remember my mentor relentlessly reminding me. She in a way got me back to my feet, “just say sorry instead of crafting up another lie or excuse,” she added saying, “each lie you make takes a way a piece of your life,” and with these words, I had to stay woke.
Excuses eat you up each day, each minute you craft one. It’s much easier to be true to yourself than to be untrue to others while looking for the moral high power to keep up your life because if it backfired, you would be truly fucked.