Ah, New Year’s resolutions. The annual tradition where we collectively lie to ourselves, fueled by the delusion that January 1st magically turns us into highly organized, gym-going, salad-eating versions of our current chaos-filled selves. As a life coach with ADHD (read: professional squirrel chaser), I’ve got some spicy thoughts about this whole charade. Spoiler: most of us are doing it wrong.
Let’s start with the obvious: you don’t need a new year to get your act together. You can start a new habit on a random Thursday in July. Resolutions are just peer pressure disguised as self-improvement. Honestly, do you really think your life will suddenly change because you yelled “New Year, New Me!” while holding a tequila shot and crying into your cousin’s couch cushions at 12:01 a.m.?
No. You’re still you. But that’s okay! Let me tell you how to embrace it while still making some actual progress.
Step 1: Stop Setting Dumb Goals
There, I said it. If your resolution is to “get in shape” or “become a millionaire,” let me gently remind you that vague goals are like me trying to remember where I put my car keys—useless and doomed. If you can’t define it, you can’t do it.
Here’s an example: instead of “get in shape,” try “I will walk for 20 minutes, three times a week.” Why? Because you can actually do that. And if you can’t, at least it’s not a $600-a-year gym membership collecting dust while you lie to your friends about how much you love CrossFit.
Step 2: Embrace Your Inner Chaos
As someone with ADHD, I know all too well the feeling of setting a goal and then promptly forgetting it because, oh look, shiny thing! Instead of fighting your quirks, work with them. Hate the idea of working out? Cool. Blast your favorite music and dance like a maniac in your living room. That counts as cardio and embarrassment.
The key is to keep things interesting so your brain doesn’t tap out after week two. Routine is great—if you’re a robot. For the rest of us, let’s add some spice. Variety, flexibility, and low-stakes effort are the secret sauces for sticking with anything.
Step 3: Ask Yourself, “Do I Actually Want This, or Is Instagram Telling Me I Should?”
Look, not everyone needs a “glow-up” or to run a marathon. Maybe your real goal is to take more naps, say “no” to things that drain your soul, or finally figure out which drawer you shoved your tax documents into. Those are valid AF. Screw the idea that your resolutions have to look glamorous on social media.
Step 4: Make Failing Part of the Plan
Let me break it to you: you’re going to screw up. And guess what? That’s fine. Perfection is for sociopaths and robots, not messy humans like us. If you miss a day, a week, or even a month, don’t throw in the towel. Just start again. Success is basically failing over and over until one day, you accidentally succeed.
So, if you skip your “daily meditation practice” because you got distracted watching cat videos, congrats—you’re living life. Just pick it back up tomorrow (or next week, or whenever you remember).
Step 5: Ditch Resolutions Altogether
Hot take: resolutions are optional. You don’t have to fix yourself just because the calendar flipped. What if, instead of trying to overhaul your entire life, you just focused on being a decent human and doing more of what makes you happy? Revolutionary, right?
If January rolls around and all you’ve accomplished is surviving 2023, you’re already crushing it. Set a single, bite-sized goal for the month if you want. Or don’t. Either way, the sun will still rise, and Starbucks will still have your back.
Final Thoughts (AKA My ADHD Tangent)
Here’s the bottom line: Resolutions aren’t magic, and they sure as hell aren’t necessary. If they motivate you, great! If they make you want to yeet yourself into the nearest dumpster fire, skip ‘em. You don’t need a “new you” to start the new year right. The current you is pretty damn awesome—mess and all.
So, go forth into 2024, armed with realistic goals, a sense of humor, and zero guilt. And if all else fails, just resolve to hydrate more. No one ever regretted drinking water. Probably.
Happy New Year, ya beautiful disaster. Let’s make it a good one. Or at least a mildly tolerable one. Cheers! 