The Real Flex: Why Sharing Our Progress Can Be About More Than Recognition

Why sharing our progress isn’t always about attention, and how it can help reinforce accountability, identity, and personal growth.

I’ve never been particularly found of self-promotion.

For years, I had a relatively unused professional social media account. I would occasionally share something related to my work as a therapist, but I never really made much of an effort to promote myself.

About a year ago, that started to change.

I began posting more consistently, initially sharing my workouts and running progress. Part of it was an attempt to connect with people from my gym, and part of it was an effort to become a little more comfortable promoting myself professionally too.

Recently, I started recognizing something about why I was sharing. It wasn’t necessarily about getting attention or recognition. I still don’t really like self promotion but it has become a way to hold myself accountable.

And I think that’s something we often overlook when we see other people sharing their accomplishments.

Not Every Accomplishment We See Online Is a Flex or Brag

We see it all the time on social media.

Someone posts their workout. Someone shares their race results. Someone celebrates a professional achievement, a personal milestone, or an accomplishment they’re proud of.

And sometimes our immediate reaction is to assume they’re showing off.

And truly, maybe they are.

There’s certainly no shortage of people using social media to seek attention, validation, or recognition. And frankly, there’s nothing inherently wrong with wanting a little recognition for something you’ve worked hard to achieve.

But I think we sometimes overlook another possibility.

What if the post isn’t really about what someone has accomplished?

What if it’s about their commitments?

It’s Not About the Last Three Days. It’s About the Next Five.

Recently I posted this on my social media. It refers to a particular challenge I committed to for this week. And it wasn’t about showing people how fast I can run, how much weight I can lift, or how consistently I’ve been exercising.

Sure, I’m proud of some of those accomplishments.

But when I shared that I’ve worked out “3 days out of 3,” I’m not just highlighting the last three days. I’m reinforcing my commitment to the next five.

Posting my progress becomes a reminder of a commitment I’ve made to myself.

I’ve decided that being physically active is important to me. I’ve decided that maintaining my health, challenging myself physically, and continuing to improve are things I want to prioritize for my mental and physical wellbeing.

And by sharing that progress, I’m reinforcing those commitments.

That doesn’t mean I’m always consistent.

There are days when I don’t feel like it. Days when I make excuses. Days when other responsibilities take priority.

And that’s precisely why accountability matters.

The goal isn’t to prove that I’m disciplined. It’s to encourage myself to keep practicing discipline.

Accountability Goes Beyond Fitness

I’ve noticed this same dynamic in other areas of my life.

When I share psychological insights, it’s not meant to demonstrate how good of a therapist I am or suggest that I’ve somehow mastered the concepts I discuss with clients.

In fact, I struggle with plenty of the same things I encourage my clients to work on.

I can recognize the importance of setting boundaries and still struggle to maintain them.

I can talk about being intentional with our time and still find myself getting distracted by things that don’t really matter.

I can encourage people to challenge their thinking while recognizing that I have my own assumptions and biases that need challenging.

Being a therapist doesn’t make me immune to the challenges of being human.

But sharing these ideas creates another opportunity for me to reflect on whether I’m practicing what I preach.

The same applies when I share moments with my daughter, family, or friends.

I’m not suggesting I have parenting figured out or that I always show up perfectly in my relationships.

I make mistakes. I get distracted. I sometimes fail to prioritize the people and relationships I claim are most important to me.

But acknowledging those relationships publicly can serve as a reminder to actively value them privately.

Because there’s a difference between saying something matters to us and consistently making choices that demonstrate it.

The Relationship Between Identity and Our Choices

There’s another psychological component to all of this that I find particularly interesting.

Identity.

We often think about identity as something relatively fixed.

“I’m a runner.”

“I’m a good parent.”

“I’m a hard worker.”

“I’m someone who values personal growth.”

But our identity isn’t simply a collection of labels we assign ourselves.

It’s also shaped and reinforced by the choices we make.

We don’t become runners simply by identifying as runners. We reinforce that identity by running.

We don’t become more present parents simply by describing ourselves as family-oriented. We reinforce that identity by making time for our children.

And we don’t become people who value personal growth simply by reading self-help books, attending therapy, or sharing inspirational quotes.

We reinforce that identity through our willingness to challenge ourselves, reflect on our behavior, and make changes.

Our choices help shape our identity, and our identity can influence the choices we make next.

This is where sharing our progress can become meaningful.

When I post about a workout, a psychological insight, or a personal milestone, I’m not necessarily declaring that I’ve achieved some ideal version of myself.

I’m acknowledging the identity I’m striving to build.

And reminding myself that my future choices need to support it.

But Posting Isn’t the Same as Doing

Of course, there’s an important distinction here.

Posting about our values doesn’t automatically mean we’re living by them.

Sharing workout statistics doesn’t make someone physically healthy.

Posting about relationships doesn’t make someone a great partner or parent.

And sharing psychological insights certainly doesn’t make someone emotionally mature.

Social media can just as easily become a place where we promote an idealized version of ourselves without doing the work necessary to live up to it.

There’s even a potential downside to publicly announcing our goals. Sometimes the recognition we receive for expressing an intention can provide a sense of accomplishment before we’ve actually followed through.

That’s why I think the distinction between attention and accountability matters.

Are we sharing something because we want people to believe something about us?

Or are we using it to reinforce something we want to believe through our own actions?

Neither motivation is necessarily exclusive. We can enjoy recognition while also wanting accountability.

But the important question is what happens after the post.

Do we continue showing up?

Do we follow through on the commitments we’ve made?

Do our choices align with the identity we’re trying to develop?

Or are we more invested in appearing to be a certain type of person than actually becoming that person?

The Real Flex

I’ve come to appreciate social media as something more than a platform for self-promotion.

It can also be a tool for reflection, connection, and accountability.

Not because sharing our progress guarantees we’ll follow through.

But because it can remind us of the things we’ve decided matter.

And sometimes we need those reminders.

We get comfortable. We get distracted. We become complacent. We fall into routines that don’t necessarily reflect our priorities.

As I often tell my clients, complacency and comfort can kill growth.

Personal growth requires us to continually examine whether our choices are consistent with our values and the identity we’re striving to build.

So the next time you see someone sharing a workout, a race, a professional milestone, or a personal accomplishment, consider that there might be more to it than self-promotion.

Maybe they’re celebrating something they’ve worked hard for.

Maybe they’re looking for a little recognition.

Or maybe they’re reminding themselves of a commitment they’re trying to maintain.

Because sometimes it’s not about attention.

It’s about accountability.

And the real flex isn’t the accomplishment we post.

It’s the commitment it represents.

My Top 3 Irrational Beliefs

The real B.S. I used to tell myself—and believed for longer than I care to admit.

As a cognitive behavioral psychotherapist, I spend a lot of time helping people identify irrational beliefs.

Very often the stories we tell ourselves and the assumptions we make are flawed or self limiting. We reach conclusions and fill in gaps without much evidence.

We subjectively create rules for ourselves that, at some point, we stop questioning.

Unfortunately for me, being a psychotherapist does not make me immune to any of this.

I have my own irrational beliefs. Some which I’ve stubbornly held onto for years. And the tricky thing about an irrational belief is that when you believe it, it usually doesn’t sound irrational.

It sounds completely reasonable to us at the time.

So in an effort at transparency and vulnerability, here are three of mine.

Irrational Belief #1: “I’m a psychotherapist. I shouldn’t be in great physical shape.”

For a long time, I had this strange belief about being physically fit. I told myself I didn’t need to be in great shape because I was a psychotherapist. Part of that was probably just a convenient excuse to do bare minimums.

But there was something else underneath it.

I thought being too physically fit might actually make me less relatable. Maybe people would look at me and wonder what I was trying to prove. Maybe they’d think I was hiding something.

Maybe a client struggling with their own health, motivation, confidence, or body image would look at me and think:

He doesn’t get it.

So somehow I turned not taking care of myself into something that felt almost professionally responsible.

That was my own B.S.

The reframe was much simpler:

I can care about my physical health and appearance because I care about me.

It doesn’t have to have anything to do with other people:

A) I can exercise because I like feeling strong.

B.). I can care about how I look because it makes me feel more confident.

C.) By challenging myself physically it reminds me I can do difficult things.

And none of those things make me less capable of understanding someone else’s struggle. If anything, what actually happens is the exact opposite of what I feared. I’m more confident and speak with more conviction in my approach. Theres more heart. I genuinely feel better.

My behavior is more congruent with a lot of the things I encourage in therapy.

And I think my clients benefit from that.

Irrational Belief #2: “If my clients find out I’m divorced, they’ll see it as negative.”

For years, I was extremely cautious about self-disclosure.

I’m a therapist. The session isn’t about me. I need to have strong boundaries. And these are good reasons to have boundaries around what and how much we share with clients. But somewhere along the way, healthy boundaries turned into boxed in walls. Based on fear or my own anxiety.

I worried that if clients knew too much about me, eventually something could be used against me.

Divorce was a big one.

He got divorced.

His marriage failed.

What does he know about successful relationships?

So I kept parts of myself hidden for far too long. Not necessarily because keeping them private made me a better therapist, but because keeping them private made me feel safer.

Eventually, I had to dispute that self serving by self limiting comfort zone.

I can have appropriate boundaries without being afraid of being known.

I can be proud of choosing divorce even if someone else sees it as failure.

I survived something difficult.

I made a decision that was healthier for me and gave me more opportunity to be the father I wanted to be.

And none of that disqualifies me from helping someone else navigate their relationships.

What actually happened?

I became more comfortable acknowledging my failures.

I became more intentional with self-disclosure instead of simply being afraid of it. (Also, no one used my divorce against me. It actually is more of a gateway into understanding people)

More importantly, I stopped believing that being a good therapist required presenting some carefully protected version of myself.

I can have boundaries.

I can keep parts of my life private.

But I don’t have to hide myself out of fear.

Irrational Belief #3: “Posting on social media to get clients is for therapists who need clients.”

This one is probably the most humbling to admit because I didn’t just avoid social media.

I judged other therapists for doing it.

I thought it was cringey.

There was this part of me that believed:

Just be good at your craft.

If you’re a good therapist, people will find you.

You shouldn’t have to shamelessly promote yourself.

And if you’re constantly posting online trying to get clients, maybe that says something about your ability as a therapist.

Then eventually I had to confront something uncomfortable.

I wasn’t avoiding social media because I had some deeply held professional principle.

I was boxing myself in because I cared too much about other people’s opinions.

What if another therapist thinks I’m cringey?

What if someone thinks I’m desperate for clients?

What if people I know see one of my videos and make fun of me?

I was allowing hypothetical opinions from hypothetical people to dictate what I was willing to try.

That isn’t freedom. It’s confinement.

The reframe became:

I don’t need to do this to still do it and enjoy it.

In fact, maybe it’s better to start doing something before you need it.

And what actually happened?

It’s fun.

I enjoy writing.

I enjoy making videos.

I enjoy trying to communicate psychological ideas in ways that people might actually want to read or watch.

I’ve realized that actively creating on social media feels a lot better to me than lurking as a passive recipient of overstimulation.

I’ve connected with people I otherwise wouldn’t have.

I’ve created more.

I’ve written more.

And yeah, I may have even gained a client or two.

They Were All the Same Irrational Belief

At first glance, these are three completely different beliefs.

One is about physical fitness.

One is about divorce.

One is about social media.

But when I started looking at them together, I realized they were really just different versions of the same irrational belief:

Other people’s hypothetical opinions should influence how I live my actual life.

That one had a lot more control over me than I realized.

And disputing it doesn’t mean I’ve convinced myself that nobody will judge me.

That’s just another irrational belief.

Someone might think I care too much about how I look.

Someone might think a divorced therapist has no business talking about relationships.

Someone might watch one of my videos and think I’m cringey.

Someone might read this entire blog post and think the same thing.

That’s possible.

The healthier belief isn’t:

Nobody will judge me.

It’s:

I can withstand it if and when they do.

I don’t have to organize my life around preventing negatives. I can adapt and overcome them.

Accountability as a Path to Growth

Human psychology exists for the purpose of survival. Much of what we do—consciously or unconsciously—stems from the instinct to protect ourselves. This can often show up in unpleasant ways such as selfishness, defensiveness, or even narcissism. This is because we cling to our sense of self, avoid shame, and fight to maintain control. When someone holds us accountable, or offers constructive feedback, it feels like a direct threat. This feedback threatens our fragile survival system.

But what if feedback isn’t a threat at all? What if it’s the very thing that helps us move closer to who we want to be?

Reframing Criticism

Most of us have been conditioned to see accountability as punitive – a consequence for getting “caught” doing something wrong. That mindset might work comfortably when it’s holding others accountable, but when the focus shifts to us, it triggers defensiveness, denial, or blame-shifting.

At its core, though, constructive feedback can be a mirror. It reflects how our actions affect others, reveals our blind spots, and increases self-awareness. Instead of viewing criticism as an attack, we can see accountability as an invitation- an opportunity to self-actualize. When we move from fear to receptiveness, feedback stops feeling like a strike against our worth and becomes a compass guiding us in a better direction.

From “Fuck You” to “Thank You”

Imagine a culture where feedback isn’t met with hostility but with gratitude. Instead of a reflexive “fuck you” when we’re challenged, we respond with “thank you.”

Thank you for helping me see what I couldn’t.

Thank you for trusting me enough to call me to corrective action.

Thank you for letting me know where you stand so I can properly adapt.

That small shift can have profound effects. It builds trust in relationships, strengthens communities, and creates workplaces and families where honesty isn’t feared but welcomed. Accountability stops being a weapon and becomes a gift when we reframe it.

Choosing Growth Over Defense

This isn’t easy. Our instinct to protect ourselves won’t disappear overnight. But each time we catch ourselves getting defensive, we have a choice: double down on pride, or lean into growth. The latter requires humility, vulnerability, and courage. Yet it also leads to freedom—the freedom that comes from knowing we don’t have to be perfect, only willing to learn.

Unconditional self acceptance is the foundation of this work. Only when we accept ourselves fully can we acknowledge our mistakes and embrace feedback without shame.

If we, collectively, begin to approach accountability this way, we will change not just our individual lives but the culture we live in. A culture less obsessed with defending the ego and more committed to becoming better, together.

So the next time someone calls you out—or calls you in—pause. Breathe. And maybe, just maybe, try saying “thank you.” This week, let’s choose one phrase as our accountability anchor. Use something like “Thank you, I’ll have to think about that.” Carry it with you. Practice using it the next time feedback comes your way.