The Lies We Tell Ourselves

What we perceive to be true in the small, everyday moments has a massive impact—not just on our emotions in the moment, but on how we experience our lives over time.

The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Take something simple. You’ve got a list of things to do, and you knock out 95% of it. But at the end of the day, you’re frustrated—because your mind solely focuses on the things you didn’t do. That becomes your truth. I didn’t get things done.  Sometimes we take it so far to tell ourselves, I didn't get anything done, just because of the few things we didn't get to. And when that becomes your daily truth—not once, but every single day—it starts to sink into your subconscious. You begin to believe something about yourself: I never finish things, or  I can't ever get anything done. And the human mind, for better or worse, works to make your beliefs into actual truth. So the more you focus on what’s missing, the more you begin to feel like someone who never gets anything done, even when that’s not even close to reality.

We say things like this is taking forever, or I’ll never get this done, or I don’t have time for anything I actually want to do. And maybe we think those are harmless throwaway comments, but they’re not  harmless, and it's rarely actually true. These small things we tell ourselves  are telling our subconscious mind what we believe about ourselves. Tiny phrases that begin to shape how we feel, how we move, and how we experience our lives.

Even something like yardwork or cleaning the house. If your self-talk is “this is going to take forever,” what you’re really telling your mind is: this is a waste of my time, this isn’t worth the energy, this is something to avoid. And guess what happens? You avoid it. You procrastinate. You start to feel dread anytime it’s brought up. Not because the task changed, but because your focus and your story around it did.

And it gets heavier with time.

There’s one phrase I really can’t stand: This is killing me. We say it when we’re stressed, overwhelmed, anxious. And sure, it’s usually said in a lighthearted way, but the words we repeat matter. If every challenge gets labeled as something that’s “killing” us, what does that say about our capacity? Our resilience? Our ability to rise above?  What if instead of something killing me that was difficult, I chose to tell myself, or even say out loud, I am learning something from this.

Even with finances, my wife and I used to say all the time, “We don’t have the money.” And sure, sometimes it was technically true. But it wasn’t helpful.  For a period of time we even said pretty regularly we never have the money to go on vacation. Over time, it became part of our identity. Part of our belief system. So we started adjusting the language—just slightly. “We don’t have the money yet.” That one word helped us remember that where we were wasn’t permanent. We weren’t denying reality—we were choosing to speak a fuller version of it.  Am I saying that if you start saying "I'll have the money next week to go on vacation" that I believe it'll automatically manifest itself? No, I am not talking about manifesting our own reality. What I am talking about is the strength and power behind the small negative things we tell ourselves each day.

Let me bring this back into daily life.

There was a season where I was working hard every single day. Hours and hours of focused time. But I constantly and did each day by telling myself and sharing with my wife that I didn't get anything done. And it was draining. I’d sit down each morning already tired, already wondering what the point was. Then I started using an app called Sunsama. No sponsor here—I just needed something that could show me where my time was going.

At the end of each day, I could see clearly—I was getting a lot done. I wasn’t failing. I wasn’t lazy. I was just focusing on the one or two things left undone and letting that define my whole day, my week, my year.

But now I had data showing I was productive… but I still didn’t feel energized. I still lacked that internal drive. So I went back and looked closer. And what I saw was that, while I was busy all day long, only a tiny fraction of my time was being spent on anything I actually cared about.

Now, I’m not saying  we should only do things we are fully passionate about because that’s not realistic. But I added just one hour a day—sometimes even less—doing something I truly loved doing. For me, that’s writing. So I write every day, not because anyone’s waiting on it, not because it’s productive, but because it feeds something inside me. I also started spending a little more time with music, one of my lifelong hobbies. And over time, those small moments changed how I felt about everything else.  Full disclosure, there are days where I don't even feel like doing the things I know give me energy like music and writing.

But on those days, I make a conscious decision to do it anyway. Even if it's 15 minutes because I found at the end of the day if I didn't do these couple of small things that I truly loved doing, I would be frustrated at myself that I didn't do those things.

I stopped waiting for motivation to hit me from the outside. I stopped expecting energy and passion to magically appear before I took action. I realized that sometimes, the energy doesn’t come until after I’ve started.

What I’m saying is this: if you’re constantly telling yourself that you’re behind, unproductive, unmotivated, or not good enough, you will feel that in your body. You will carry it in your shoulders, your back, your chest. You’ll dread starting your day. You’ll feel stuck. And all of it will seem like it’s coming from the outside—when really, it’s coming from the inside out.

This isn’t about faking positivity. It’s not about ignoring real problems. It’s about asking yourself: Is what I’m telling myself actually true? Because if it’s not, then it’s time to rewrite the script. Not for the sake of being motivational. For the sake of being honest.

Because here’s what’s true in my life, and I believe it’s true for others too:

When I shift my mindset—when I focus on what’s working, on what’s already done, on what matters most—I get more done. I make better choices. I show up better. I live better. Not because life is easier, but because I stopped making it harder than it had to be.