The Psychology of Excuses: What They're Really Trying to Tell You
A Psychologist’s Perspective:
When I worked in a forensic program helping individuals become clean and sober, I found myself repeating one phrase over and over again:
"That's an excuse."
It usually caught people off guard. Sometimes it even upset them.
"Why would you say that?" they'd ask. Because I wasn't criticizing the excuse—I wanted to understand it.
Over time, I've realized I use that same phrase with many of my clients today. Not because I'm trying to be harsh, but because excuses often tell us something important about ourselves. I only use it after we've explored the issue together and nothing seems to change. At that point, the excuse itself becomes worth examining. Somewhere along the way, we've decided that calling something an "excuse" is automatically negative. We think excuses mean we're lazy, irresponsible, or unwilling to take accountability. But the truth is, we all make excuses. Every single day.
We make excuses for why we didn't exercise. Why we forgot to call someone. Why we procrastinated on an important project. Why we stayed in a relationship longer than we should have. We use explanations to make sense of our behavior, and there's nothing inherently wrong with that. The important question isn't whether you have an excuse. It's whether you're willing to examine it.
Imagine you haven't texted a close friend in several weeks. What does that mean? Maybe work has been overwhelming. Maybe you've simply been distracted. Maybe the friendship isn't as much of a priority as it once was. Those are all explanations. They may even all be true. The problem isn't the excuse. The problem is that sometimes we work so hard to avoid what the excuse might be telling us that we never stop to ask ourselves whether it's accurate.
If the friendship isn't a priority anymore, does that make you a bad person? No.
If you're too exhausted to exercise after working, raising children, and caring for everyone else, does that mean you're lazy? No.
It may simply mean your priorities, energy, and circumstances don't currently align with the person you want to be. That's uncomfortable. And because it's uncomfortable, we often stay stuck trying to prove our excuse isn't true instead of accepting what it may be revealing. Acceptance is one of the hardest parts of change. We often think acceptance means approval or giving up. It doesn't.
Acceptance simply means acknowledging reality without arguing with it. Once you accept reality, you finally have something concrete to work with. You can decide whether you want to change your priorities, your habits, your relationships, or your expectations. This is also where boundaries come into play. Many of us make excuses for other people's behavior just as often as we make excuses for our own.
"They're just stressed."
"They had a difficult childhood."
"That's just how they are."
"They didn't mean it."
Those explanations may all be true.
Understanding why someone behaves a certain way is compassionate. But understanding someone's behavior doesn't require you to continue accepting behavior that hurts you. Empathy and boundaries can exist at the same time. You can understand someone's pain without making it your responsibility to carry it. The goal isn't to eliminate excuses. The goal is to become curious about them. Instead of immediately defending them, ask yourself:
"What is this excuse trying to tell me?"
You may discover that your excuse isn't something to be ashamed of. It may simply be pointing you toward a truth you've been avoiding. And once you're willing to accept that truth, you finally have the freedom to decide what happens next. Because acceptance isn't the end of change.
It's where change begins.
What excuse have you been holding onto lately? If you looked at it with curiosity instead of judgment, what might it be trying to tell you?