The Problem with New Year New You
Prefer to listen? You can hear me read the blog here:
I’m not very good at filing paperwork. Which is a shame, because if I were, I’d show you the ad I once placed in the Albany Advertiser in their New Year New You section. Part of me is a little ashamed to admit it now. These days, there’s very little about New Year New You that I stand by. Yes, a new year can be a lovely time to freshen things up or try something new.
But the whole premise of New Year New You is this: there is something wrong with you, and you need to change.
Why New Year New You is so exhausting
And if you’re anything like me, you are utterly exhausted by that idea.
Hopefully, you already know you’re pretty great. Kind. Thoughtful. Funny. Caring. Hard-working. Perhaps you carry a few extra kilos, or you don’t feel as strong as you once did. Maybe you’re living with a chronic illness now, or dealing with hot flushes and disrupted sleep. But believe me — even with all that going on, you don’t need to be a new you. Or even a “better” version of you. I’d argue that what you need most is greater acceptance of how wonderful you already are, and a little more attention on what’s already good in your life.
The lie at the heart of New Year New You
New Year New You tries to tell us that if we just try hard enough, if we finally find perfect discipline, if we follow the plan properly this time, we’ll leave all discomfort behind and life will become everything we’ve dreamed of. But life has taught me a few things that don’t quite fit with that story.
First, if discipline hasn’t magically appeared by now, it’s unlikely to suddenly arrive with the turn of the calendar. Not because you’re lazy or broken, but because discipline isn’t a character trait you either have or don’t have. Most of us are doing the best we can with the energy, health, responsibilities and lives we have — and no amount of money spent on a new plan changes that.
Second, life is uncomfortable sometimes. Bodies change. Energy fluctuates. Loss happens. Pain appears. Trying to pretend otherwise is a form of magical thinking, and it can waste a lot of precious time and self-kindness.
And finally, what if discomfort doesn’t mean your life is wrong? What if wanting things to feel easier doesn’t mean you’ve failed? What if the problem isn’t you — but the expectation that life should feel smooth, controllable, and endlessly optimisable?
When I stopped trying to reinvent myself
At the beginning of this year, I couldn’t even think about becoming a new version of myself. I was deep in grief, and I knew my life was about to change in ways that were completely out of my control. And now, at the end of the year, I can honestly say I’m grateful that the pressure to reinvent myself was taken off the table.
I gave myself the gift of going with the flow. Of collapsing in grief when I needed to. Of taking as much time as my knee injury required. Of letting loved ones take care of me. Of allowing my life to unfold rather than forcing it into a plan. If I’d tried to plan this year in the traditional New Year New You way, I don’t think many of the good things would have had space to arrive. I would have been planning from fear and loss. Instead, I was able to receive from a place of being loved — by myself and by others.
A gentler way to begin a new year
So maybe the beauty of a new year isn’t about fixing yourself at all. Maybe it’s about taking the strengths you already have and letting them gently shape whatever comes next. Allowing yourself to be human. Going with the flow when you need to. Noticing the beauty that’s already here, rather than optimising your life until it feels mechanical.
Care for yourself, rather than correcting yourself.
You don’t need to be a new you in 2026. You don’t need fixing. You’re allowed to feel worthy exactly as you are — even if you eat two pieces of pavlova on Christmas Day. And Boxing Day too.