Casey Gilfillan

Though the title is laced with jest, there is some truth to the statement: I am a principled objector to the tradition of an annual Resolution. The sentiment and logic that inform my opinion cannot be attributed to a mere distaste for immediate change, and can also be traced to animosity I hold towards baseless yet collective action of a people. What special essence is possessed within the passage from December 31st to the first of January, only accessible via annual metamorphosis and at no other time of the year? We ended 2024 on a Tuesday, which did not feel particularly cathartic to me, and certainly didn’t feel like a diving board to launch off into the New Year. We all woke up on Wednesday, but this Wednesday was special because now it is 2025 and we can all change the very core and nature of our beings, but only if we act with the utmost urgency, for we only have the short window permitted by Resolution. More than a period of meaningful change and growth, I have witnessed the season after Christmas as one of ingenuine change, discipline, and consequent self-hatred among many who participate. The New Year’s Resolution is a placebo, for it offers nothing more than a collective mentality of encouraged participation and persistence; there is no truth or tangible substance that makes this period fertile for change.

I make these claims without holding much regard for the historical significance of the time chosen to mark the New Year, for I feel confident to claim that the holiday of New Year’s Eve/Day has larger social connotations and obligations, as opposed to familial, cultural, religious, etc. I do not find that most people are moved to change by seasonal progression, but begin to reinvent themselves solely because they have been told the year is ending and that a new one is making a prompt arrival. The reality being, of course, that when I rise on the first of January, I will not wake anew through some threshold of transformative slumber. The Earth will continue to travel as it does, I will continue my days in the same skin I have always occupied, except now I am permitted and encouraged – hounded, really –  to change myself in some magnificent way that is impossible any other time of the year. I will become a person who reads more, who attends the gym daily, one who does not indulge in fried food or carbonated beverages, who travels often, who frugally spends and cleverly budgets, who is always learning new and amazing skills, and so on with other generic mantras of self improvement. The pressure is high throughout the month of January to maintain the promise, the covenant you have made to become your new self, lest you should fail and prove unable to start the uphill battle of improving yourself in a month such as March, June, or September!

In some regards, I find that it is natural with the end of the holidays and return to normalcy that people seek to establish good habits, but this is starkly different than slapping on the label of Resolution. I will admit that I endeavor in self renewal and reflection upon arrival of the year’s end, and I may even line up new or refreshed habits in alignment with the beginning of the New Year. I refuse, however, to prophetically tether my self-betterment to seasonal resolutions and collective fad. Like most, I do my best but fall short in some ways and always strive to be a better version of myself. Like most, I will take any opportunity to embark on a streak of good behavior. I will not, however, dotingly refer to these attempts to improve myself as my “New Year’s Resolution,” secretly hoping the incorporeal frame of marked time will hold me steadfast rather than my own hand.

While it may seem that my aversion can be summarized to a disdain for the label, I feel that the seasonal connotation itself is problematic, creates undue pressure for a small period of time, and then creates unlivable expectations for the remainder of the year. Something about the escalated self-help-ism of January makes me queasy. My feelings of hostility towards January are largely due to the inauthentic but suffocatingly-productive aura of the season, which is a harsh contrast from the holiday season that precedes and makes it all the more insincere. December is filled with good food, gatherings, gifts, while January is quiet, fitness-centric, with everyone back on the work ‘grind,’ (a word I absolutely despite but fits the seasonal theme all too well).

January is depressing, and many people spend it forcing themselves to live a lifestyle that is radically different and uncomfortably from how they normally live. This is not to say that discomfort is always a negative thing or that change is inherently bad, because neither of those is objectively true. However, imbibing on drastic change while cutting out unwanted habits “cold turkey,” so to say, is not healthy or sustainable, and is much less likely to be successful for permanent change. The collective social pressure to comply with Resolutions, despite their questionable foundation and abysmal success rate, is at the core of my disdain for the tradition.

To be honest, I also find New Year’s Resolutions, and those who are actively promoting them, to be quite annoying. It is insufferable to exist in January, and the nutritional conversations are the most draining. Trying to get through to the water cooler at work, pushing through a sea of women all drinking smoothies while discussing the details of their New Year’s liquid diet cleanse. The same coworkers who were trying to stuff every kind of cheese and chocolate down my throat in December, now fussing over caloric intake and fasting. Typing on my computer and hearing, “ahh, my shoulder” only to turn and find that nothing has occurred, no trauma or injury; it is just my coworker narrating as he stretches out his arm, the verbalized soreness as evidence of how intensely he worked out the evening before. Performative Resolution compliance, or mere evidence of the timeless human quest for peer validation? I couldn’t prove it either way, but I really hate experiencing these moments, and they are indubitably worse and more frequent in January. 

Regardless of my personal aversions and opinions, of which I have an endless supply, New Year’s Resolutions will continue to be a staple of our culture for the foreseeable future. If engaging in an annual Resolution is something that helps you make positive change in your life, that is great. While I have an opposition against people doing things en masse on the whim of fad, there is something to be said about solidarity. The feelings of support and empowerment that can be derived from doing something with a friend or as a large group can be extremely powerful, i.e. religion. If you believe in something hard enough, you might trick your mind into achieving your goals. This tactic has never proved successful for me, and I will continue to point out flawed and detrimental trends as I see them. The fact of the matter is that while Resolutions may be a positive source of motivation for some, they are a source of anxiety and pressure for others, that ultimately result in failure of goals or other negative feelings.

I do not allow myself to be suffocated by the culture of the New Year’s Resolution. I am an adult woman, and it will either be my willful volition, or tumultuous trial and tribulation, that I will know I am ready to change and do so successfully.