why i'm not setting resolutions this new year

on rejecting consumerism, honouring your past self, and the quiet consistency of small habits

New Year, New Me.

26 Habits You Should Start in 2026.

You Should Stop Doing These 3 Things In The New Year.

Why I’m Leaving Everything In 2025 Behind.

Your 2026 reset is here.

6 Things To Do To Rebrand Yourself In 2026.

How about we just… take a breath.

The 2026 reset has officially kicked off, and the influx of messages are here to stay. I see it everywhere, and I’m sure you do too. It can feel overwhelming, especially when it seems like everyone has jumped on the bandwagon.

It’s inescapable.

The promise of a clean slate. Who wouldn’t want to leave behind the unfinished mess of the past and start again? If you asked me a few years ago, I would’ve been doing the exact same thing.

I, too, have fallen victim to the countless recommendations, mindset shifts and habit formations as well. New Year’s resolutions were my crack. The chance to create a completely new version of myself? Yes please.

And so the goals began:

Drink 2L of water everyday. Eat healthier. Read more. Scroll less. Exercise at least 4x per week. Work on my discipline.

Do more. Be more.

In the final few days of December, I would sit and meticulously craft a 5 page document outlining my goals and plans for the year. Each month had a theme. Everything was broken down into categories and subgoals and achievable steps. A master plan on how to become the person I wanted to be.

And then 1st would arrive… and it would be just another day. And I don’t know what I expected, but there would always be a crushing wave of disappointment when I realised things weren’t going to magically change overnight.

And that document I had so carefully curated? It stayed untouched for the entire year, only to be reopened the following December when I revisited my past goals and promised myself that this year would be different. That I would actually follow through and change my life.

I could smell my own bullshit from a mile away. But I was fuelled by motivation, spurred by the herd mentality.

I saw so much of it circulating online at the end of 2025. Everyone swore 2026 would be different, that it was going to be their year. A feeling in the air. The spark of change, new beginnings. And even though I had no plans to set any resolutions this year, I still wondered if I would feel the shift too.

When enough people say the same thing, you start to believe it too.

But as I sit here writing this on January 1st, the first day of 2026 feels underwhelming and exactly the same. Which makes sense, because life doesn’t actually reset on command. Real shifts happen quietly in the background, over time - not at midnight.

And this isn’t to say I’m against new beginnings. There’s psychology to support the idea that fresh starts can help us stick to our goals. We’re wired to respond better to clean slates.

But what I’m far less fond of is the commodification of it all. Companies rushing to capitalise on the idea of transformation and package it back to us.

New journals. Notebooks with ‘2026’ engraved in gold cursive font. Habit trackers promising to change your life. Morning routine planners. Vision board kits. Courses on how to reinvent yourself in 30 days.

In the middle of a cost of living crisis, it can feel like people’s vulnerability, their hope and desperation to change, is being preyed on. Because if the goal is to transform your life, to turn a new leaf, you don’t need more stuff. You need consistency. And time. And effort.

And when everyone is telling you to change, that your current self isn’t good enough to carry into a new year - it starts to erode something. It quietly suggests that who you are needs fixing. That we may never be good enough.

So at what point does it become too much? At what point do resets stop feeling empowering and start to feel like a trap?

Because a part of setting resolutions involves abandoning your old self in favour of a newer, shinier, transformed version of yourself. But that kind of disregards everything you put into yourself last year. And the year before that.

Shedding your past means disregarding the work you put in. The tears you cried and the hurdles you overcame and the struggles you faced. Your past self may not have been perfect, but they got you to where you are now. And I think that counts for something, at least.

This time of year always has a way of holding up a mirror. You become acutely aware of your shortfalls, of what you didn’t achieve last year. There’s a slight panic about how much you already need to do this year, how far you think you should be by the end of the month, by February and March and April. About how time keeps moving, whether you’re ready or not.

It’s easy to fall in love with a rebrand. It’s fun to romanticise, to map out the goals, the dreams, the fantasy of who you want to become. But it’s a tougher ask to actually embody it, to live it day after day.

When I look back on last year, my most meaningful progress came from small, consistent efforts. My ‘reset’ didn’t begin in January - in fact, it started to quietly unfold in the second half of the year. A milestone in June. Another in July. Then August. Because I kept going, even after the ‘New Year’ version of me fell short.

Because why should we wait until a new year to begin pursuing what we want? Why confine ourselves to dates on a calendar?

I want to start now. I want to reinvent myself daily.

Maybe the lie we’re sold is that change announces itself loudly. In reality, it shows up slowly, on ordinary days like this one. And maybe the answer isn’t a dramatic reset or a brand new version of yourself. Maybe it’s living slower, less performatively, and trusting that real change happens in unremarkable ways.

This year, I’m stepping into consistency. Goals held softly. Effort without spectacle. And grace for when I fall short. Life is unpredictable, and I want habits that bend instead of break.

Among all the noise, the advice, the urgency to become someone else, my intention for 2026 is simply to feel safer in my own body and be more at home with myself.

It might not feel like a new beginning. But every day offers one.

Don’t forget who you’ve become or what you’ve already achieved. 2026 may be a new era, but you are still an accumulation of every year that has brought you here. And that person deserves to be honoured.

No reset this year - just continuity.