I don’t make New Year’s resolutions and I haven’t for a long time. Like a lot of people, I struggled to keep going. But every January brought the pressure to reinvent myself overnight, followed by burning out and giving up within a few weeks.
Over time, I realized the problem wasn’t motivation or discipline. It was the underlying structure. Traditional New Year’s resolutions ask for a massive change at a specific and often inconvenient time of year. January never made sense to me as a time for clean slates. For most of my life, it fell right in the middle of the academic year, when I was deep in my routines, expectations, and survival mode.
So instead of forcing myself to keep making resolutions that didn’t work, I found an alternative. In the final days of 2011, I made what I didn’t realize would be my last traditional New Year’s resolution and accidentally created a ritual I’ve renewed every year since.
The Last Traditional Resolution I Ever Made
After years of forcing myself to participate in New Year’s resolution season with my friends, I knew the pattern well. Every January followed the same steps:
- Make a list of things I aspire to do, change, or become
- Immediately feel overwhelmed
- Worry the “new” me would be fake
- Try to embrace the “old” me as the “real” me
- Grapple with existential dread
Repeat annually.
By the time I reached my early twenties, I was exhausted by the routine. Not because I didn’t want to grow or was afraid of change, but because the way I was trying to change never felt sustainable or achievable.
Still, I tried one more time.
The waning days of 2011 marked the last traditional New Year’s resolution I ever made.
What Was Going on in 2011?
I had just survived my first quarter as a writing student in college in 2011. My first time really being away from home—500 miles away. My first time having a taste of being in charge of my own life. And I spent so much of that time being afraid and saying “no” to things I wished I could say “yes” to.
At the time, I was working hard to prove to my family that I wouldn’t drop out within my first year. I barely spoke to my classmates—any socializing was just a distraction. I avoided going out and doing anything that cost money.
And when I went home for winter break with my perfect grades, I felt… despair.
I imagined the rest of my college experience being just as lonely and work-obsessed. It seemed miserable. I didn’t want that. But I was under a lot of pressure to stay focused on my studies.
My Last Resolution
The last thing I needed was a 12-month personal improvement plan on top of my schoolwork. I wanted to grow without burning out. But I figured one goal was doable. Something I could work toward a little bit each month.
So I came up with a simple resolution:
Do one new thing each month.
That was it. I didn’t even think about what specific things I wanted to try. That was Future Amanda’s problem. If she remembered to stick with it, that is.
Honestly, I thought I’d abandon it the first time I got to the end of the month and had to rush to find something new to do.
What “Trying One New Thing a Month” Actually Looked Like
For the first few months, I made a sincere effort to do something new. I approached classmates first and started conversations. I tried a new haircut, walked different routes to class, saw a new movie, and started a new writing project.
And I rationalized buying new clothes I didn’t need as “well, it’s something new.” Putting something different on my plate at the cafeteria counted, too, right? While we’re scraping the bottom of the barrel, let’s also say stuff like “my first April in Georgia” counts.
When I thought about it, I could make almost anything count as a new experience.
Then there was the day my classmate Molly asked if I wanted to do both a zumba and yoga class with her on Saturday morning, and I said yes without asking too many follow-up questions. We did both classes. Twice. Each. Back to back to back to back. Four freaking hours.
My legs wouldn’t work the following Sunday. I fell out of my bed and had to slither across the tile to get to the bathroom. While Molly and I stayed friendly, we never really hung out again. But I did buy a yoga mat, went to yoga class almost every Saturday, and continue to do yoga regularly.
But even when I didn’t go out of my way to try something new, I never hit that “oh crap, I didn’t do something for my New Year’s resolution” moment. Every time I checked in with myself at the end of the month, I realized I always did 1-3 new things.
That alone was so surprising and made me feel so proud of myself that I never worried about whether I was good at those new things. It was enough just to celebrate having done them at all.
The Unexpected Benefit: Emotional Resilience
My resolution became a little private joke, too. Whenever life keelhauled my plans and expectations, I’d sarcastically tell myself this new bump in the road counted as my new thing for the month.
That time I thought I broke my hand when I accidentally hit it while entering my class building? “Hahaaaaa I’ve never injured myself that stupidly before!” Or when I had to walk to the hospital for an x-ray because I couldn’t catch a ride? “Wow, this is a new experience I never want to do again!” How about when I still had to have my fingers splinted for a couple weeks? “Just think of all the things I have to try doing left-handed now!”
Joking with myself kept me from spiraling into fear and anxiety whenever bad things happened. It moved me into a better headspace for taking on those obstacles instead of just complaining about them (but there was definitely a lot of complaining still).
At the same time, new stopped being so scary. New started to mean opportunity. I was terrified the first time I applied for a gig to help someone with their WordPress site, but I told myself I should do it so that could be the best new thing I did that month. And I did it.
Without realizing it, I was building up my confidence. I also built new neural pathways that changed how my brain responded to new and unfamiliar challenges. Not only that, I built up my emotional resilience to the disappointment when things didn’t work out the way I hoped.
Because I wasn’t focused on the outcome. What mattered was I continued the practice of trying something new.
How This Changed My End-of-Year Reflections
Usually when the end of the year came around, I’d entirely forgotten what my resolutions were. But it was likely I didn’t keep them. No wonder the idea of making more resolutions for the next year filled me with dread.
But this time was different. I knew my simple resolution by heart. Do one new thing every month. And I knew I’d done it. So when I thought about the year I’d had, I thought about all the new experiences I had. The good and the bad.
Part of me wants to roll my eyes when I say this, but I did actually feel a lot of gratitude. It was hard not to. I thought about all the fun, exciting new things I tried and loved. I felt satisfied rather than like I’d missed out. And when I thought about the challenges and misfortunes I’d never had to deal with before, I couldn’t help but think, “Wow, I must actually be a strong, capable person because I dealt with all that.”
How This Became a Ritual I Renew Every Year
That first year I tried to do one new thing every month was a blast, and it ended on such a positive note. I had to do it again. And again. Until I finally admitted that I gave up on making traditional New Year’s resolutions and instead had a covenant with myself.
It’s a promise to stay curious. To trust in my ability to learn and grow. To embrace the spirit of adventure and look forward to what could happen next.
Happy new year.
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