Fuck new year’s resolutions. Yes I said it. This is the time of year when people often set audacious goals and “commit” to changing a significant part of their lifestyle. That’s cool and all, but I’ve rarely followed through with resolutions in the past. Then I’d beat myself up for not following through while dealing with even more feelings of guilt and shame and not enough-ness.
I’ve learned that I don’t change just because the calendar date has changed…and that’s OK. Like Ke$ha said, We R Who We R. This year, I want to accept one thing about myself instead of changing a behavior or creating a new habit. What if 2018 is the year that I decide to accept who I am?
The woman-in-recovery part of me wants to acknowledge that some behaviors need to be changed. There is always something about myself that I can “work on” or some unhealthy behavior that can be tweaked or a past trauma that’s arising in therapy that can be addressed. But life is fucking hard. And after the shit storm of 2017, I’m all for 2018 being the year where I chill out and embrace who I am instead of trying to change who I am. At the very least, maybe I can distinguish what I want to change/accomplish from what I feel like I “should” change/accomplish.
If you’re reading this and you’re sort of inspired to give yourself grace but you’re still like “nah girl, I have to set a resolution!”, here are a few examples of some realistic ways to approach New Years Resolutions:
If you hate running, don’t set a goal to train for a marathon. Commit to finding a new hobby or parking further away.
If you hate reading, don’t tell yourself that you’ll read X books a month. Commit to finding a new podcast or attending a local poetry reading.
If you hate cooking, don’t tell yourself that you’ll cook X times a week. Commit to finding the most economically efficient delivery service or budget accordingly so you can eat out.
Basically: If you hate _______, don’t commit to ________. Just live your life and treat yo’self to some cup cakes because life is short and you’re awesome.
Oh, and if you want to try Dry January, please read this first.
Photographer: Chas Kimbrell
Photo Location: Lower East Side, Manhattan