Why New Year’s resolutions don’t work for so many of us

You can change any day of the year. So the idea that transformation must begin on 1 January has always felt a bit… loud. And for a lot of us, it comes with baggage: the old “be better, be smaller, be more disciplined, be worthy” story dressed up as self-improvement.

Resolutions often carry a hidden threat: If you don’t do this perfectly, you’ve failed.
And so many women already live under enough pressure — to be pleasing, productive, presentable, high-achieving, low-maintenance, endlessly capable. The last thing we need is another stick to beat ourselves with.

That said, I do love this time of year. There’s a softness in the days between the winter solstice (in the northern hemisphere) and the end of December — a quiet pause where the world feels slightly more reflective. It’s not really about “new year, new me”. It’s more like: What’s ready to wake up next?

The practice: write your future self a note instead of setting goals

Here’s what I do at the beginning of the year: I imagine it’s December and I’m looking back.

And I ask: How will I know I had a successful year?

Not “What did I achieve?”
But: How do I want to feel about what I built?
How do I want to feel in my body? In my relationships? In my work? In my own self-respect?

It’s like leaving a note for your future self that says:
This is what we’re choosing. This is what matters. This is the kind of year we’re here for.

And it works differently to goal setting. Goal setting can trigger that old voice — the one that doubts you, rushes you, questions your worthiness. But when you write from the perspective of the woman who has already lived the year, something relaxes. The nervous system softens. You stop trying to prove. You start listening.

If you want to try it, start with one sentence:

“In December 2026, I’ll know I had a successful year because…”

Don’t overthink it. Let it be honest. Let it be yours.

What success really is (and how it becomes bigger than you)

I realised recently that success, for me, isn’t purely about money. Money can be deeply supportive — safety matters. Stability matters. Rest matters. But money isn’t the whole story.

Sometimes, when a big “milestone” finally happens, something unexpected follows: the wanting gets quieter. The fantasy that this will finally make you feel whole dissolves. And what you’re left with is the truth:

You don’t just want more.
You want meaning.

Success can look like:

• feeling steady instead of anxious

• honouring your boundaries like they’re sacred

• creating from purpose, not pressure

• allowing yourself to be seen (properly seen)

• recognising yourself when you look back

And for me — this is the heart of it — success is also tied to women.

How many women felt less alone because you spoke honestly?
How many felt braver because you modelled courage, even imperfectly?
How many were reminded that they’re allowed to take up space?

This is how we change things: not through perfection, but through women choosing themselves again and again — and taking other women with them.

So here’s my question to you:

When you look back a year from now…
How will you measure your success?
How proud will you be?
How true will it feel?
How much did you honour yourself?
And how much did you help other women shine?

If you want a place to start, here’s your prompt again:

“In December 2026, I’ll know I succeeded because…”

Write it like a note to the woman you’re becoming. She’s already on her way.

Much love

Sharonah x