Building Integrity: Using Intention, Reflection, and Accountability
When you’ve lived through destructive choices—whether it’s sexual addiction, infidelity, or any other behavior that’s robbed you and those you love of safety and trust—you learn quickly that rebuilding your life isn’t just about quitting a behavior. It’s about becoming a different kind of man. Integrity isn’t something you can fake or shortcut. It’s built, brick by brick, through the way you live, think, and relate to others every single day.
Over the years, in my own story and in the hundreds of men I’ve coached, I’ve come to see three essential ingredients that create lasting integrity: intention, reflection, and accountability. Each one addresses a blind spot that keeps us stuck, and together they form a framework for sustainable change. Let’s walk through each.
Intention: Choosing a Direction Instead of Just Surviving
One of the biggest reasons men struggle to live in integrity is because we get stuck in survival mode. I remember seasons in my own life where every day was about “just making it through.” I wasn’t looking ahead, I wasn’t asking where my actions were leading—I was just reacting. If I felt lonely, I reached for comfort. If I felt pressure, I numbed out. Living this way leaves you powerless and overwhelmed, because you’re always reacting to the next crisis instead of proactively shaping your life.
I’ve seen this same pattern in many of the men I’ve coached. One client, let’s call him Mark, came to me after his wife discovered years of hidden pornography use. He was desperate to “fix” things, but every week he would come in talking about the fires he was putting out—work stress, conflict at home, exhaustion—without any clarity about who he wanted to become. He thought integrity was about willpower in the moment. The truth is, it starts with intention.
At its core, intention means taking an honest assessment of where you’re failing and engaging real solutions to live differently. It’s sitting down and saying:
What values do I claim to live by?
Where do my actions fall short of those values?
What daily practices could help me move toward alignment?
For me, intention looked like admitting that secrecy and self-protection were killing me. I had to intentionally choose honesty, even when it felt terrifying. For Mark, intention meant creating a recovery plan with clear goals and practices—daily check-ins with his wife, structured routines for sleep and exercise, and regular group meetings. Integrity doesn’t appear out of thin air; it’s built by intentional living.
Reflection: Creating Space to Face the Truth
If intention sets your direction, reflection helps you see whether you’re actually walking the path. This is where so many men stumble. We might set great goals or promise change, but unless we stop to reflect, we won’t know if our practices are bringing us closer to the man we want to be—or pulling us further away.
The monastic traditions are a powerful example here. Monks didn’t just live with intention; they carved out daily space for reflection, often in silence, prayer, or journaling. Reflection wasn’t a luxury; it was survival for their soul. And it’s no less critical for us.
The problem is that most of us avoid reflection. Why? Because our brains are wired for efficiency. It’s easier to keep a simple narrative in our head: “I’m a good guy working hard”or “I’m broken and hopeless.” Black-and-white thinking saves energy, but it also keeps us from reality. Reality is far more complex: in one day, you might act with deep love toward your kids in the morning and then hide in lust or anger that night.
I’ve worked with men who refused to reflect because they didn’t want to face that complexity. One man, James, told me, “If I really sit with myself, I’ll just feel like a hypocrite.” The truth is, refusing to reflect doesn’t erase the hypocrisy; it entrenches it. But when James began a nightly reflection practice—ten minutes of journaling on where he was in or out of alignment with his values—he started to notice progress he had missed before. He wasn’t perfect, but he was growing. That honest awareness fueled hope and deeper integrity.
For me, reflection has meant being willing to hold two truths at once: I am capable of failure, and I am capable of growth. Reflection grounds me in reality and prevents the delusion that either my successes or my failures define me entirely.
Accountability: Inviting Others Into the Journey
The third ingredient is accountability, and it’s the one men resist the most. Why? Because it requires vulnerability. Accountability means saying, “I can’t see myself clearly. I need others to reflect back what they see.” And that feels risky. But it’s vital.
We all carry blind spots. Some behaviors are so automatic or unconscious that we don’t even notice them, even as they sabotage our integrity. That’s where accountability comes in. Inviting others into your process allows them to name what you can’t see and call you back to alignment.
But let’s be honest—most of us avoid accountability in one of three ways:
Staying isolated. We avoid hard conversations and convince ourselves we’ll “figure it out on our own.”
Tuning out feedback. We hear valuable insights but dismiss them because they sting our pride.
Selecting safe voices. We only let people in who will reinforce our self-image and never challenge us.
I’ve been guilty of all three. Early in my recovery, I told myself I didn’t need accountability because “it’s between me and God.” In reality, I didn’t want to risk being fully known. What broke that cycle was sitting in a recovery group where other men didn’t buy my excuses. They challenged me to live consistently, not just say the right words. It was uncomfortable—but it was also life-changing.
I’ve seen the same shift in clients. One man, David, resisted accountability until his wife told him she couldn’t trust anything he said unless she saw him in community. Reluctantly, he joined a group. Within months, he said, “I’ve learned more about myself in three conversations with these guys than I did in years of trying to do this alone.” Accountability gave him both perspective and strength.
Putting It All Together
Integrity is not built overnight. It’s not about perfection or image. It’s about intention—choosing a direction and creating real solutions. It’s about reflection—stopping long enough to face reality and learn from your day. And it’s about accountability—inviting others into your journey so you don’t walk blind.
For men rebuilding after sexual brokenness, these practices aren’t optional; they’re essential. Without intention, you drift. Without reflection, you self-deceive. Without accountability, you stay blind. But when you combine all three, you create the foundation for a new kind of life—one marked not by secrecy and shame but by honesty, courage, and real integrity.
I often tell men: Integrity is less about the moment you fall and more about how you respond afterward. Do you hide, excuse, and retreat into old patterns? Or do you return to intention, reflection, and accountability? That choice is what builds a man who can be trusted again—by his wife, his children, and himself.
Closing Challenge
If you’re reading this and feeling overwhelmed, don’t let that keep you stuck. Start small:
Write down one intentional practice for tomorrow.
Spend five minutes at night reflecting on how you lived it out.
Share it with one trusted brother or mentor who can ask you about it.
That’s how integrity is built—not in grand gestures, but in small, faithful steps. Over time, those steps form a new legacy. And that legacy is worth every ounce of effort.