The New Year, New Me, Bullshit

It's the most wonderful time of the-

Oh, wait. Wrong season.

It's the NEW YEAR, NEW ME!

And we're off to the races

Or better yet. Let's check out the circus first.

Let's see who can put on the best performance!

Every year, like clockwork, the same phrase starts circulating. Loud. Confident. Flashy.

• My goal is to lose weight.

• My goal is to eat healthier.

• My goal is to exercise more.

• My goal is to save money.

• My goal is to learn something new.

And every year, the outcome is just as predictable.

Roughly 50% of people abandon their goals by the end of January, and nearly 80% by February.

Now, before anyone of you snowflakes start melting because I'm calling you out on your circus act - listen carefully.

I have nothing against change. I genuinely support people who want to grow and improve their lives. But this trend? This ritualized "New Year, New Me" performance? That's not about growth.

It's about announcing change instead of building it.

It's about setting unrealistic expectations, and calling it motivation.

It's about validation, and stroking egos instead of sustainability.

These goals aren't bad. They're just too big. Too loud. Too performative.

You're thinking years.

Think smaller.

Break it into seasons.

Months.

Weeks.

Here's a simple example:

• My goal is to exercise more.

This can become:

• My goal is to hit the gym every other day and build up from there.

Even 15 minutes counts. Just showing up counts.

Not a fan of the gym? Not a problem. Start simple. A five-minute walk. That's still movement. That's still effort. That's still change.

As Dan Millman said, "A little bit of something is better than nothing."

And who decided the New Year had to be the universal starting line for self-improvement anyway?

Why does change need a calendar date to be considered valid?

Why does it need an audience?

Why are you seeking validation from others?

The truth is, real change rarely starts on January 1st.

It starts when something finally gets heavy enough that you can't carry it anymore.

That moment isn't loud.

It isn't public.

Sometimes it's you at your most vulnerable moment.

You decide when to change.

Not a date.

Not a trend.

I'm not trying to become a new person this new year.

I'm already mid-process.

I'm learning what consistency looks like when motivation isn't guaranteed. I'm figuring out how to support myself instead of punishing myself.

I didn't wait for January to start improving my life.

January didn't reset me.

I reset when I'd had enough.

Now, January just reminds me how tired I am of pretending change has to be loud to be real.

It doesn't.

It can be quiet

It can be subtle.

And nobody needs to know about it except you.

So, I kept my goals simple:

• My goal is to build strength and endurance. I go to the gym two days on, and a day off. Even when I don't want to go, I still go.

• My goal is to actively engage in counseling to process trauma, to reclaim my sense of safety, and build confidence with my needs and boundaries.

• My goal is to start my own business. Using the skills I already possess.

So no-

New Year. Same Me.

Just a little steadier.

A little more honest.

Maybe a dash of boldness.

And a lot less interested in doing things for show.

Do it for you.

Stop the performance.

You're not in a circus.

I'll leave you with a quote from one of my favorite stories:

"Eat well. Stay young. Live long." Doctor Sleep, Stephen King

Until next week...

Fox