Several years ago, while running my iCRYO Wellness Centers, a team member called me out on my integrity as a leader.
At first, I didn't understand what they meant. I considered myself a person of integrity. I believed integrity meant doing the right thing, even when no one was looking. I worked hard. I cared about people. I wanted what was best for my team.
But they weren't questioning my character.
They were questioning my word.
I was often late. I overcommitted. I said things would get accomplished, that I never finished. I took on too much because I believed that's what leaders were supposed to do. I constantly found myself apologizing for missed deadlines or unfinished commitments, usually with the same explanation: "I've just been so busy." And then worse, I thought being "busy" was enough of an explanation because I was the owner of the company.
The truth was, I was busy because of me.
I hadn't learned how or when to say no. I hadn't learned how to trust my team. I hadn't built the systems or accountability that allowed other people to own important work. Instead, I carried too much myself and inevitably failed to deliver on some of the commitments I had made.
It wasn't until I began working with an ontological coach that I was introduced to a different way of thinking about integrity.
In an interview with Michael Jensen, he describes integrity not simply as keeping your word, but as honoring your word. There's an important difference. None of us will keep every commitment we ever make. Life doesn't work that way. But when we realize we can't keep our word, we have a choice. We can hide, make excuses, and hope no one notices. Or we can acknowledge it early, communicate honestly, and clean up the impact we've created. That's what it means to honor your word.
That distinction changed the way I lead. But an even bigger realization came afterward. The first person I had to learn to honor my word with wasn't my team.
It was myself.
How many times have we promised ourselves we'd wake up early to work out? Lose the weight. Read the book. Make the difficult phone call. Spend more time with our family. Focus on our future instead of reacting to the present.
Nobody hears those promises except us. And nobody notices when we quietly break them except us. Over time, those broken promises chip away at something far more valuable than discipline. They chip away at self-trust.
Looking back, I don't think my integrity problem started with my team. It started with me. If I couldn't consistently honor the commitments I was making to myself, why would I expect myself to consistently honor the commitments I was making to others?
The interesting part is that this extends far beyond us. Every promise we fail to honor eventually impacts someone else. Our team waits. Our spouse adjusts. Our friends stop expecting us to show up. Our clients begin to question our reliability.
Integrity isn't just personal. It's contagious.
As leaders, we spend a lot of time talking about accountability. We want our teams to follow through, own their commitments, and do what they said they would do. But accountability doesn't begin with our team.
It begins with us.
Who do you break your word with most often? If your first answer isn't yourself, spend a few minutes thinking about all the promises you've made to yourself and never kept.
You may discover that becoming a more trustworthy leader doesn't start with getting your team to honor their word.
It starts with honoring your own.