Richelle Hofer

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about General Eisenhower’s quiet, never-used speech on D-Day—the one he drafted in case the Normandy invasion failed. Accountability in its purest form. Eisenhower didn’t just say the right words—he wrote them down privately and carried them in his wallet, prepared to face the consequences of his decisions.

It got me thinking about what accountability really looks like—and what it doesn’t.

I’ve known people who say, “I take full responsibility,” but when they say it, it doesn’t feel like accountability at all. It feels… hollow. Performative. Almost like a line in a play, recited to check a box but not to make a real difference.

Have you ever felt that? When someone says, “I take full responsibility,” but you can tell they’re not actually sorry, or they’re not actually going to change? It’s a strange dynamic—like they’re trying to be the hero and the martyr at the same time. It’s like they’re proud to be humble or something. And it doesn’t leave any room for real growth.

I used to know someone who used that phrase all the time. This person was very hands-off most of the time—absent, really. But when something went wrong, they’d swoop in and say, “I take full responsibility.” At first, it almost sounded noble—like they were protecting everyone else. But nothing ever changed. And deep down, it felt more like they were saying, “I’m the only one big enough to shoulder this burden,” than, “Here’s what I’ll do differently next time.”

Real accountability doesn’t look like martyrdom. It doesn’t mean taking on blame for things you didn’t do, or putting on a show of how humble you are. Real accountability isn’t about how it makes you look—it’s about what you’re actually going to do to make it better.

✅ Real accountability means owning your part—and only your part.
✅ It means admitting what you missed or messed up.
✅ And it means being open to the consequences and willing to change.

But it also means letting others own their part. Because when someone takes responsibility for everything—even the things they didn’t do—it doesn’t bring healing. It just muddies the truth and keeps everyone stuck.

I’m still working on all of this in my own life. But I think it’s worth talking about, because so often we confuse the performance of accountability with the real thing. One makes you look good. The other actually is good.

If you’ve ever had to navigate that dynamic—or if you’ve seen it in your own life—I’d love to hear how you’re working through it. Because real accountability matters. And it’s worth getting right.