New Year, New You? One Story of Reflection, Reset and Real Change

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For years, I used to roll my eyes when people got excited about New Year’s resolutions. It always felt like one big performance — new planners, promises to eat kale, join gyms, reinvent yourself... and by February, most of it was forgotten. Been there. Done that.

Something shifted for me a couple of years ago. I’d just come out of a really difficult year — one of those years where you feel like you’ve been emotionally hit by a truck. Everything felt uncertain. I was overwhelmed, burnt out, and questioning if I was even moving forward in life.

When New Year’s came around, I didn’t feel hopeful. I felt lost. I remember sitting with a cup of tea on New Year’s Day, still in my dressing gown, and thinking, “I can’t do another year like that.” I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, but I knew what I didn’t want: more burnout, more chaos, more pretending I was fine when I wasn’t.

That moment — just me and my mug of tea — was the beginning of everything changing.

I didn’t start with a big list of goals. I got honest. I looked back at the year before and let myself really see it. I asked, “What did I get through that was actually really hard?” The answers poured out: a toxic work situation, a friendship that had drained me for months, health issues I’d ignored, the quiet ache of loneliness I hadn’t told anyone about.

I also noticed something else. I’d kept going. I’d shown up. I’d made it through. That mattered. That deserved recognition. So I wrote it all down — not just the pain, but the progress. For the first time in a while, I felt proud of myself.

There were things I was carrying into that new year that I just didn’t want anymore. Not physical things — emotional clutter. Guilt. Resentment. A constant feeling that I wasn’t doing enough. I took a piece of paper and scribbled it all out. Every thought that weighed me down. Every expectation I’d put on myself. I ripped it up. I know it sounds a bit woo-woo, but honestly? It felt amazing. Like I was making space.

When it came to setting goals, I took a different approach that year. I stopped thinking about how I wanted to change myself and started thinking about how I wanted to feel. I wanted to feel calm. I wanted to feel capable. I wanted to feel like I was taking care of me — not just surviving, but actually living.

So I asked myself what would help me feel that way. I started to set goals around that. Not huge ones. Just small things I could actually do. Going for a walk three times a week. Turning my phone off an hour before bed. Saying no to one thing a week that didn’t feel good. Starting therapy — scary, but probably the best thing I did. The goals weren’t dramatic or glamorous. They were realistic. Most importantly, they were for me.

One thing I learned that year was the power of small wins. I didn’t need to wake up at 5am and become a yoga goddess overnight. Every time I did the walk, turned my phone off, or chose rest over hustle — I felt like I was building something. It became less about ticking boxes and more about proving to myself that I could trust me. That I was showing up for my own wellbeing.

There were days when I slipped. Days when I didn’t want to move. When I felt like giving up. That voice — you know the one — would whisper, “See? Told you you’d mess it up.” I reminded myself trying again isn’t failure. It’s courage. I learned to talk to myself differently. “Okay, today was tough. Tomorrow’s a new try.” That mindset shift was everything.

Letting go of the idea that success had to look a certain way was the hardest part. I stopped measuring progress by how much I’d achieved, and started measuring it by how I felt. Was I calmer than last month? Was I being kinder to myself? Was I making decisions that aligned with who I wanted to be? That’s when I started to really move forward.

Looking back, that year changed everything. Not because I hit some big milestone. I finally gave myself permission to take care of me — in real, tangible, everyday ways. I still make plans each New Year, but now I do it differently. I choose a word for the year — something that anchors me. One year it was “balance.” Another year, “ease.” I write it on a sticky note and keep it by my bed. When life feels overwhelming, I come back to that word. It reminds me what matters.

I also started seeing a hypnotherapist around that time. I didn’t know much about it at first. It was a game-changer. It helped me rewire some of those old thought patterns that kept tripping me up. The ones that said I wasn’t enough, or that I had to be perfect, or that things would never really change. With hypnotherapy, I found space to breathe. Space to believe in something different. It wasn’t about being “fixed.” It was about being supported, and that made all the difference.

If you’ve had a tough year — or several — and you don’t even know where to begin, here’s what I’d say. Start small. Start kind. Start honest. You don’t need to transform your whole life by next week. You don’t need to have it all figured out. Just choose one thing that supports your wellbeing. One thing that feels nourishing, not punishing.

Maybe it’s setting a better boundary. Maybe it’s drinking more water. Maybe it’s finally talking to someone about what’s been on your mind. Whatever it is, it matters. You matter.

This year doesn’t have to be perfect. It just needs to be yours. Wishing you a year of gentleness, growth, and quiet triumphs. If you need someone to help you along the way — someone who sees you and supports you — I’m here.