Is it me, or have you also noticed the growing polarization surrounding the topic of New Year’s Resolutions and Goal Setting? The debate can get downright vitriolic, with opponents acting as if the mere suggestion of setting goals is a personal affront. I have to admit, I find the whole thing rather puzzling—it’s not as if kicking off the new year with a series of goals and objectives is a mandatory requirement. If resolutions work for you—then by all means, set them. And if they don’t, you’re free to move on.
As I’ve been scratching my head trying to figure out what is really driving the debate (because this kind of divisiveness is never about the “presenting problem,” there’s always something else lurking under the surface), I came across an excellent post from Jamie Varon of Plot Twist that has helped me connect the dots. Here’s what she said:
“It’s a common story, the one we’ve been discussing as a society for the past few years. The toxicity of resolution setting, and the discourse that surrounds it, where shame is very often the mechanism for motivation. Where being productive to the detriment of all else has been held up as the gold standard for far too long.
Somewhere along the way, we all collectively forgot that resolutions were meant to improve our life, not make them an endless to-do list, imbued with pressure and comparison.
I always believed you had to hate yourself into change. It never occurred to me you may be able to love yourself into it.”
And there it was: The crux of the issue. The underlying belief that implicit in the notion of resolutions is an admission that you are not enough just as you are. And with this as the starting point for goal setting, resolutions become an exercise of “hating (or shaming) yourself into change.” And therefore, the beginning of the year—rather than feeling like an empowering fresh start—becomes a toxic reminder of the things we don’t like about ourselves.
But I think the true heart of the matter—the reason for all this strange debate and divisiveness is this: When we see others embark on changes that we are not quite ready to make (but feel we should), through feelings of “not enough-ness,” we can perceive it as an indictment against our own “weaker” character.
I experienced this phenomenon firsthand when I made the decision to give up alcohol—a decision which I will elaborate on in a subsequent post. I didn’t stop drinking because of any tabloid-worthy story, it was a personal choice with a number of motivations behind it. And maybe if I had been rehab-bound, my decision to stop drinking wouldn’t have made as many people in my life as uncomfortable as it did.
It wasn’t until I traveled to Sweden and Finland on a Backroads trip in March of 2022, that I began to understand why a personal decision to not drink made certain of “my intimates” so uncomfortable. I was a solo traveler—which meant I was a “stranger” to everyone else on the trip. A couple people noticed that I was the only person in the group not drinking and took me aside to ask about my choice. One woman in particular did so because I could tell she was concerned about her own propensity to drink more than she should. And I realized then that as a “stranger,” my not drinking didn’t shine a light on the fact that she still was—as it might have if I were a good friend or a spouse. The fact that we weren’t involved in one another’s lives—would likely never see each other again—meant that my lifestyle choice to not drink was in no way a judgement on her decision to keep drinking. And because of that detachment, instead of being a reminder of what she might need to address but wasn’t ready to, I became a source of information and support. Seeing the situation through this new lens, made it so I was no longer frustrated by people’s strange reactions to my decision to go teetotal. I understood that their reactions had nothing to do with me.
Everything good in my life—the accomplishments I’m most proud of—has started with a dream that I put into action with intention and goals—and that includes writing a novel, taking a company public, trekking across Spain, and deciding to bid adieu to my beloved bottle of wine.
But I’ve also learned that the goals I set for myself have to be thoughtfully constructed. They can’t be too vague, too overwhelming—and definitely, in no way punitive. As Jamie Varon so succinctly says—I can’t hate myself into change—I need to love and champion myself into it.
I’ve seen people achieve extraordinary things—but in every instance, their ambitions were fueled by a motivating want-to versus a punitive have-to. And in each of those cases they took it one consistent step at a time…over time.
My hope is that the debate around resolutions and goal-setting doesn’t result in lost opportunities for people who want to make some sort of change in their lives—whether it be pursuing a big, bold dream, or making a minor adjustment. Working toward change does not signal that you are not enough as you are—it simply means you want to bring something else into the mix of your already great self.
As for me, sometimes I hit my goals out of the park, sometimes I don’t. But I’m hardwired to keep trying, even when I hit a wall. Although there are times I just want to sit and stare into space—and that’s okay too.
Onward,
Diana
“Working toward change does not signal that you are not enough as you are..” Truer words haven’t been spoken, Diana. Every day presents an opportunity to evolve and also just embrace who we already are. ❤️
Here’s to reframing! Wonderful and insightful piece. ❤️