It’s that time of year again. The calendar flips, the internet lights a ceremonial candle, and we all gather around the glowing altar of The New Year’s Resolution like it’s going to personally tuck us into bed, wash the dishes, and fix our emotional damage.
Spoiler, it will not.
But still, we try. Because hope is powerful. Also because nothing says “fresh start” like declaring you will become a brand-new person while eating leftover snacks off a paper plate and wondering where the good scissors went.
I love the idea of resolutions. I really do. That version of me is unstoppable:
- She wakes up early, without hitting snooze like it’s a competitive sport.
- She drinks water like it’s her job.
- She stretches. Joyfully.
- She keeps her house clean in a way that suggests she’s never heard of clutter, laundry, or “mystery piles.”
And then there’s Actual Me, standing in the kitchen on January 2nd, holding a chocolate bar like a coping mechanism, whispering, “You can’t make me, Calendar.”
Because here’s the thing no one says out loud, resolutions are basically a fantasy novel plot.
A brave heroine, you, makes a sacred vow under the New Year moon, swears to change her destiny, and then immediately gets attacked by:
- exhaustion,
- an urgent plot twist you did not request,
- your inbox,
- your couch,
- and the ancient demon known as “I’ll start on Monday.”
So, in the spirit of truth, I’d like to offer a different kind of New Year’s Resolution. One that isn’t a sparkling, unrealistic makeover montage.
A Tiny Vow.
Not “I will overhaul my entire existence and also become someone who enjoys jogging.”
More like:
- “I will do one small thing that Future Me will not hate.”
- “I will take care of myself in a way that doesn’t require a personality transplant.”
- “I will stop treating rest like something I have to earn.”
Because honestly, most of us don’t need a total reinvention. We need a break. We need a little more softness. We need to stop acting like we’re lazy because we can’t operate at maximum output 24/7 like a haunted espresso machine.
And yes, I’m saying this as the Reluctant Queen of the Never-Ending To-Do List.
If you’ve ever made a resolution like:
“I’m going to get my whole life together.”
…can I be honest?
That’s not a resolution. That’s an ambitious proclamation to the universe.
You say it out loud and immediately your life responds with:
“Oh really? Interesting choice. Here’s three unexpected problems and a craving for bread.”
So this year, I’m doing a few “anti-resolutions.” Things I’m not doing anymore.
I’m not:
- pretending I can do everything at once without consequences,
- setting goals that require an alternate dimension where time behaves differently,
- punishing myself for being human,
- or believing that if I fail once, it means I’m doomed forever.
Instead, I’m choosing my tiny vows.
Mine look like this:
I will keep writing, even if it’s messy.
I will take breaks without guilt.
I will celebrate progress instead of moving the finish line like it owes me money.
I will continue to build stories that feel like escape, laughter, love, and yes, the occasional emotionally devastating moment that I swear will pay off later.
Because that’s the real resolution, isn’t it?
To keep showing up.
To keep trying.
To keep going, especially on the days when it feels like you’re wading through January like it’s knee-deep in cold oatmeal.
So tell me yours.
What’s one Tiny Vow you’re making this year?
Hit reply and share it with me. I read them. I love them. And I will absolutely cheer for you like you’re the main character, because you are.
And if your life feels like someone handed you a map with no legend right now?
You’re definitely in the same book as me.
Happy New Year, friends.
Let’s do this gently.
Tia
P.S. If your resolution is “read more,” I support you fully and consider it medically necessary. I’m just saying.
