The Weight of "Maybe Next Year"

Thursday, January 1, 2026.

It’s January 1st. The air is sharp, the calendar is empty, and if you’re anything like the people I sit across from every week, you’re humming with equal parts ambition and low-grade panic.

Americans love a Fresh Start.

We love the fantasy that the version of us who didn’t exercise, didn’t save, didn’t speak up, or didn’t leave can be quietly deleted at midnight and replaced with someone sleeker and more disciplined by morning.

But here’s the clinical reality:

Change is not a light switch.
It’s a nervous system negotiation.

The Myth of the “New You”

In my office at the clinic, I sometimes see clients approach change the way they approach a court order. They issue commands to themselves.

“I will be disciplined.”
“I will stop being anxious.”
“I will finally get my act together.”

But when you demand change without understanding why the old behavior existed in the first place, your brain doesn’t experience that demand as motivation. It experiences it as threat.

That’s why most resolutions quietly collapse by mid-February. You’re trying to build a future on top of self-rejection. The foundation can’t hold.

Why You’re Not Actually Stuck

If you keep repeating the same patterns, it’s not because you lack willpower. It’s because the behavior you’re trying to eradicate once worked.

Procrastination often protected you from the exposure of being judged at full capacity.

People-pleasing often kept relationships stable enough to survive.

Overworking often made you feel temporarily indispensable instead of quietly afraid.

These aren’t character flaws. They’re survival strategies that may have stayed too long.

Until you understand what the behavior was doing for you, your nervous system will keep re-installing it. Curiosity has to come before discipline. Always. I can help with that.

A Different Way Forward

This year, instead of making resolutions rooted in self-correction, try something quieter—and far more effective. Here are 3 ideas worth considering:

Lower the bar. Intentionally.
We chronically overestimate what we can do in a day and underestimate what we can change in a year. If you want to exercise, start with five minutes. Your ego will protest because it’s not impressive. Your nervous system will cooperate because it’s not dangerous.

Audit your motive.
Are you changing because you care about yourself, or because you’re trying to outrun a sense of inadequacy? The goal might look the same on paper, but the fuel source determines whether you’ll last.

Practice self-compassion like a skill, not a sentiment.
This isn’t softness. It’s mechanics. Resilience comes from failing, noticing the sting without collapsing into shame, and returning anyway. Shame burns energy. Compassion preserves it.

Frequently Asked Questions

Why do most New Year’s resolutions fail?

Most New Year’s resolutions fail because they rely on self-control rather than nervous system safety. When change is framed as a demand—“be disciplined,” “stop being anxious”—the brain interprets it as a threat. Threat responses reduce flexibility, making consistency harder, not easier. Sustainable change happens when the nervous system feels safe enough to try something new.

What does it mean to say change is a nervous system negotiation?

It means that behavior change isn’t purely cognitive or motivational. Your nervous system evaluates whether a new behavior feels safe, familiar, or socially risky. If the change threatens attachment, identity, or emotional regulation, the nervous system resists—often through procrastination, avoidance, or self-sabotage—regardless of how much you “want” the goal.

Is lack of discipline ever the real problem?

Rarely. What looks like a discipline problem is usually a protective strategy. Habits like procrastination, people-pleasing, or overworking often developed to manage fear, preserve relationships, or reduce shame. Removing the behavior without addressing its function leaves the nervous system scrambling to recreate safety in other ways.

Why does self-criticism make change harder?

Self-criticism activates the same stress pathways as external threat. It increases cortisol, narrows attention, and reduces behavioral flexibility. Over time, this leads to burnout rather than growth. Self-compassion, by contrast, supports emotional regulation, which makes repetition and learning possible after failure.

How can I set goals that actually stick?

Start by lowering the intensity, not the intention. Choose actions small enough that your nervous system doesn’t resist them. Five minutes of effort repeated consistently creates more lasting change than ambitious plans followed by collapse. The goal is to build trust with yourself, not prove something.

What’s the difference between self-acceptance and giving up?

Self-acceptance doesn’t mean abandoning growth; it means removing punishment from the process. Acceptance creates stability, and stability is what allows change to occur. Giving up feels numb or avoidant. Acceptance feels grounded and curious.

When should someone consider therapy around behavior change?

If you repeatedly understand what you want to change but feel unable to follow through—or if attempts at change trigger shame, anxiety, or emotional shutdown—therapy can help identify the nervous system patterns underneath the behavior. Change becomes possible when the system driving the behavior is finally understood.

Final Thoughts

You don’t need to become “new.”
But, if you’ve read this far, you probably do need to become more integrated.

The most meaningful changes I’ve witnessed in my work didn’t happen because someone finally cracked the code of productivity or self-optimization.

They happened because someone stopped fighting themselves long enough to listen.

This year, try meeting your own struggle with bestowed attention instead of punishment.

It turns out that’s where real change has been hiding all along.

Be Well, Stay Kind, and Godspeed this New Year