I’m writing today about something simple, uncomfortable, and easy to overlook as a busy man in midlife: keeping your word. Not in theory, not as a concept, but in practice, especially when it’s inconvenient.

This week, I had a rare coaching opening because a commitment made to me wasn’t honored, and it forced me to take a hard look at why this matters so much to me, and why it should matter to you too.

I’d been working with a client for about six months and we’ve made a lot of progress. We right-sized a business that had him trapped in his office for far too many hours. We raised his rates for the first time in nine years and managed the messaging to his clients so the right ones stayed and the wrong ones moved on. He wanted to feel more confident, so we upgraded his wardrobe and even put him on a skincare routine. We also planned experiences for him to actually enjoy the time he bought back by making these changes.

In December, we agreed to continue working together through 2026. We shifted to monthly calls, weekly text check-ins, and a level of accountability that matched what he said he wanted. We were aligned on the plan and the investment. He asked if he could pay in two installments. That’s not my usual structure, but we had a relationship, so I agreed.

Calls were scheduled. My calendar was blocked. And then I stopped hearing from him. I followed up a few times. Nothing dramatic. Just normal check-ins every few weeks to see how he was doing and to make sure he was okay. No response.

Then, 48 hours before our first scheduled call of the year, I got a short text: “I need to cancel. Some things came up. Expenses, etc.”

No phone call. No conversation. No acknowledgment of the commitment he had made or the position it put me in. I wasn’t angry as much as I was disappointed, because the issue wasn’t the money. It was the principle.

The foundation of what I coach on, and how I try to live, is built around keeping your word and being proud of the man you see in the mirror. 

Preparation, consistency, discipline, and accountability aren’t ideas to me. They’re standards.

You can want better skin, better abs, better style, or a better business. All of that is fine. But if you’re not someone who does what you say you’re going to do, none of it really matters. Not to you, and not to the people around you.

If you make a commitment and need to change it, have the conversation. Don’t disappear. Don’t avoid the discomfort. Don’t wait until the last minute and send a text. That isn’t about money. It’s about character.

It made me ask a simple question: Is this someone I’d want as a friend? A business partner? Someone my kids could look up to? And if I’m honest, the answer was ‘no.’

I’m not writing this to shame or blame anyone. I’m writing it as a reminder for myself and for anyone reading this. How we see ourselves, and how others experience us, matters. 

This situation will make me clearer with boundaries, stronger with standards, and more intentional about what I allow. It will also remind me that if I say I’m going to do something, and for some reason I can’t, it’s important to have the tough conversation to explain myself instead of ducking and taking the easy way out.

In this case, I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about my former client.

When a man doesn’t keep his word, he knows it. It quietly chips away at self-trust. The real damage isn’t the cancellation. It’s the story you start telling yourself about who you are. And once that trust erodes, you play smaller, hesitate to commit, and repeat the same patterns.

We talk a lot in midlife about wanting breakthroughs, momentum, and confidence. But midlife doesn’t change when your circumstances change. It changes when your standards do. 

More often than not, the breakthrough you’re looking for is sitting on the other side of a commitment you’re not keeping.

And no one can do that part for you. Not a coach. Not your spouse. Not your boss. Not your kids. Not your doctor.

I’ve said this for years, and I believe it more every year: don’t break the promises you make to yourself, don’t break the promises you make to others, and don’t make too many promises in the first place. 

When your actions start matching your intentions, you begin trusting yourself again. And that’s when life starts to feel good.

As for me, I know I have a tendency to dwell on things. To get angry about them. I have to fight that part of me. I tell myself that I’m not going to stew on this, even though the text came on the morning of my 25th wedding anniversary (which bummed me out) and property taxes are due in a few days. 

Those things are real. But this is also where I can continue to work on myself.

I’m going to move forward. I’m going to keep working with men who do what they say they’re going to do, and I’m going to forgive those who don’t. I’ll also keep refining how I coach, how I communicate, and how I protect my time and energy, because that’s my responsibility.

Here are three things I’m recommitting to, and I invite you to do the same. 

First, say less and commit more carefully. Overpromising is the fastest way to underdeliver. 

Second, handle things early and directly. Hard conversations only get harder the longer you wait. 

Third, do the uncomfortable thing first. The workout, the payment, the call, the apology, the boundary. Momentum comes from choosing discomfort now instead of regret later.

If this hits home for you, start with something simple and concrete. I just finished The Definitive Guide to Maximizing Midlife: The No-BS Blueprint to Conquering Your 6Fs and Building the Life You Want in 90 Days, and I’m giving it to you for free. It’s the same structure I use with my private coaching clients, built from more than 200 conversations with high-performing men and everything I’ve learned the hard way myself.

Download it, read it, and pick one or two things to do consistently. And if you want real accountability, real structure, and real conversations, reach out about coaching. That unexpected opening might be the right next step for both of us.

In health,

Come join me and my friend Sterling Hawkins, author of Hunting Discomfort, for a one-day Growth and Leadership Immersion on Grays Peak in Colorado (14,278 feet). We’re taking 30 people for a challenging, meaningful experience that’s as much about mindset and connection as it is about the climb itself. 

Grays Peak, often paired with its twin Torreys, offers two distinct paths that converge at a single summit, a powerful reminder that growth rarely happens in isolation and progress often comes through tension, effort, and shared purpose. This day will be demanding but doable, physically challenging, mentally clarifying, and deeply connective. You’ll train for it, put it on your calendar, surround yourself with great people, and show up ready to do something hard on purpose. Space is limited and this will sell out quickly. If this speaks to you, apply here.