From excuses to execution

I used to be a master of excuses.

No, really—I had one ready for every dream I never pursued.

Too tired. Too busy. Not good enough. What if I fail? What if people laugh?

The worst part? I made them sound logical. Sensible. Like I was simply being realistic. I’d convince myself that timing wasn’t right or that I needed one more course, one more book, one more sign from the universe. Meanwhile, time passed, and all I had were dreams trapped in notebooks and “someday” promises.

Until something happened that forced me to face the truth.

The Wake-Up Call

It started on a Sunday morning. I was at a coffee shop, notebook in hand, telling myself I was planning out my “next big step.” In reality, I was sipping my latte and scrolling through social media, watching others share their wins.

One post stood out.

It was from an old college friend, Mia. We weren’t close, but we’d talked often in creative writing class. Back then, she’d dreamed of publishing a children’s book. I remembered how unsure she’d been—shy, even. Yet here she was, holding her debut book in a post that read:

“I almost didn’t do this because I was scared. But fear isn’t a reason to stop. If you’ve been waiting for the ‘right time,’ this is your sign.”

My stomach dropped.

That was my line. “Waiting for the right time.” I’d been waiting for years.

And there she was—someone with the same doubts I had, the same fear—but she did it anyway. She didn’t wait. She executed.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I stared at the ceiling, heart racing, not because I was jealous, but because I was suddenly awake to my own pattern: Excuses, disguised as planning. Fear, masked as perfectionism.

For the first time in years, I was honest with myself.

I was the one holding me back.

The Decision

The next morning, I made a decision.

It wasn’t dramatic. No loud declarations. No quitting my job or making a viral post. Just one quiet, firm decision: I would stop making excuses and start taking action—imperfect action.

I wrote a list of everything I’d been putting off. At the top was: “Start writing that short story series I’ve been thinking about for three years.”

That evening, I opened a blank document. I didn’t wait for inspiration. I didn’t light a candle or set the mood. I just wrote.

It wasn’t perfect. But it was done.

And that changed everything.

The Shift

Something shifted in me after that day. I realized that execution builds momentum. One finished piece gave me the courage to start another. Publishing my first story on a writing platform—flaws and all—felt like jumping off a cliff. But the responses I received were kind, supportive, and encouraging.

Suddenly, I didn’t care about being perfect. I cared about showing up.

The excuses lost their power.

They still popped up, of course—old habits die hard. But now I recognized them. When my brain whispered, “You’re not ready,” I answered, “Maybe not. But I’m willing.” That became my mantra.

I started waking up an hour earlier to write. I set small goals instead of huge ones. I treated my creativity like a daily practice, not a mysterious force that needed to be summoned.

People began to notice. Friends asked how I stayed motivated. The truth? I wasn’t always motivated—I was just tired of my own excuses.

The Unexpected Gifts

By choosing execution over excuses, I gained something I never expected: self-respect.

There’s a deep kind of peace that comes from doing the things you told yourself you couldn’t. Each step forward—no matter how small—was a quiet victory. I stopped comparing myself to others because I finally felt proud of who I was becoming.

I also realized how many people were quietly watching, feeling stuck like I once was. When I shared my process—the messy parts, the fear, the resistance—they told me it helped. That made every vulnerable post worth it.

Looking Back

It’s been a year since that morning at the coffee shop. A full year since I stopped waiting for life to give me permission. I’ve published stories, collaborated with other creatives, and even started mentoring a few young writers.

But most importantly, I’ve built a life I’m actively creating—not one I’m just dreaming about.

And it all began when I traded excuses for execution.

Final Thoughts: A Letter to Anyone Waiting

If you’re reading this and you’ve been waiting—waiting to start the book, the business, the blog, the painting, the class—you don’t need one more plan. You don’t need one more sign.

You just need one decision.

Don’t worry about being ready. Focus on being willing.

Take one step. Then take another. You’ll be amazed at what opens up when you start moving.

Moral of the Story:

The difference between a dream and a reality is not talent, time, or luck—it’s execution. Your excuses may feel comfortable, but they won’t take you anywhere. Action—no matter how imperfect—is the bridge between who you are and who you’re meant to become. The perfect time doesn’t exist. But your power to begin? That’s real. And it’s ready right now.