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Y’all, can we talk for a minute about all the excuses people are making for being terrible human beings these days? I’m serious. Everywhere I turn, somebody’s got a new reason, a new label, a new diagnosis for why they’re out here doing just plain awful things. Let’s take this Brian Kohberger situation—the guy accused of brutally murdering four college students in Idaho. Now they’re saying they don’t want him on the stand because of autism? Because of the way he gazes at people? His awkward stance? That he asked for a coffee while being arrested? That he doesn’t fully understand the weight of what he’s under? That he doesn’t know how to show emotion?

Come on now. I’m no psychologist, but that sounds a whole lot more like sociopathy than autism to me. And maybe it’s both—who knows? But at what point did we stop calling evil what it is? At what point did we decide we needed to wrap every act of violence, cruelty, or recklessness in a diagnosis or excuse?

Don’t get me wrong—mental health is real. Trauma is real. Autism, depression, anxiety, PTSD—they are all very, very real. And I respect that. But there’s a difference between having something and using something as a shield from accountability. There’s a fine line between “this shaped who I am” and “this justifies what I did.”

Look, I’ve made my own fair share of bad decisions. Big ones. Ones that still sting when I think about them. And yes, my childhood—chaotic and heartbreaking as it was—played a role. Of course it did. Our past forms us, no doubt. But the decisions? The actions I took? They were mine. There’s always that split second between the thought and the act. And that, right there, is where your responsibility lives.

There’s a reason the law distinguishes between murder and premeditated murder. Murder in a fit of rage? That’s passion, not love-passion, but the kind of overwhelming emotion that shuts your brain off for a moment. Still wrong. Still consequences. But premeditated murder? That means you sat with it. You planned it. You thought it through and still did it. That’s not a lapse in judgment—that’s a choice. A cold, deliberate one.

Same goes for everything else in life. You don’t get a free pass because you’re going through a divorce. You don’t get to hurt people because you had a bad childhood. You don’t get to be a selfish jackass because you’re depressed. I’m not saying those things aren’t hard—I’m saying your response is your responsibility.

That’s a phrase my friend Tammy reminds me of all the time. And she’s right. I am a reactive person by nature. I’ve spent a good part of my life leading with emotion—firing back before thinking, making decisions from a place of hurt or fear. But in the last few years, I’ve worked hard to pause. To breathe. To think before reacting. It’s not always easy, and Lord knows I still mess it up sometimes. But that’s called being human.

Growth doesn’t mean perfection—it means learning. And learning means admitting when you’re wrong, taking accountability, and doing better next time. That doesn’t happen if all we ever do is make excuses for ourselves or others.

So let’s stop. Let’s stop rationalizing every bad behavior with a list of diagnoses and traumas. Let’s hold people accountable—not without compassion, but with clarity. Let’s raise our kids to take responsibility. Let’s stop enabling the chaos around us by sugarcoating it.

Let’s do better. We can do better.

Because the truth is, your choices are your own. And how you respond? That’s on you.

XOXO, Jani

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