The New Year has always been painted as being so freeing, a clean slate. There is truly a world of endless possibilities; you can move, start a new life, a new career, go back to school, form new habits, drop old ones. The world is your oyster!
But often, the weight of all those possibilities feels…heavy. As we get older and acquire more responsibilities, the good reasons not to do something start to outweigh the reasons you set out to do the thing in the first place.
As a mom, I’m no stranger to this pattern. The I’ll do better tomorrow mentality has been my closest companion. Oddly enough, the first resolution I’ve ever actually stuck to finally came to fruition—I launched my blog with its first post by 2026.
So maybe, since we’re off to such a good start, this year will be full of accomplishments.
But after trying to come up with my little resolutions list, these things feel like pipe dreams in our current situation. My partner started his own business last year and to all you small business owners out there, you know the mental gymnastics that come with trying to stay afloat. We’re in our surviving era, and dreaming big has been put on the backburner.
Of course, we have the long-term goals; owning a home, a fenced yard for our dog, the ability to afford any niche classes so our daughter can explore her likes and dislikes, but I’ve been living day-to-day with micro-goals:
Successfully doing a load of laundry each day (and actually putting the folded clothes away)
Going to bed before midnight
Working out at least three days a week
Brushing AND flossing twice a day
You know, the small stuff. The stuff that feels too basic to go on a resolutions list, but the stuff hoarding my mental bandwidth. So, what really feels worthy of being on my resolutions list?
Scrolling social media, I see people setting goals like how many books they’ll read this year, how much weight they’ll lose, maybe even something more mindful such as being more present with their families. But nothing I’ve seen really fluffs my feathers, and maybe I’m struggling because I want to find something that’s actually attainable for me or maybe I just don’t want to disappoint myself if I drop the ball.
There’s a question I’ve been asked on and off throughout my life: What accomplishment are you most proud of? The first time someone asked me this, I was fifteen, sitting in a mock interview, and it completely stumped me, enough to make me think about it year after year.
The answer to this question changes with each season I’m in, at one point it was graduating high school with honors and an associate’s degree, another was getting my bachelor’s degree amid COVID, and then it was birthing a child and having a great birth story to go with it. I’m proud of a lot of things, but most of them don’t feel organic. They don’t feel like me, and if they don’t feel like me, why am I so proud of them?
Sure, I did well in high school, but I was also great at cramming, skimming CliffNotes and surviving off Quizlet. I earned my BA during a tough time, but my GPA was low, courses were removed due to hardship, and I was working full-time at a bar. My priorities were definitely out of alignment.
And yes, I birthed a beautiful, healthy baby girl. I love our birth story because it was chaotic, messy, and loud (I delivered naturally, so loud might be an understatement), but our child is what makes it so amazing.
So, with each year, when I’m thinking of all the possibilities and everything I want to accomplish, I ask myself, ‘What can I do that will make me proud?’ Changing my routines has been a big feat for me in 2025, but brushing my teeth every day and staying on top of the laundry and dishes just feels like necessities—hard sometimes, but basic, and not exactly pride-inducing.
I’ve always wanted to share my art. When I was a child, I wanted to write novels, as a teen I wanted to start a YouTube channel for makeup, in my early twenties I wanted to start an Instagram account for my paintings, but I’ve never followed through and I’ve always kept that part of myself tucked away. I’ve been waiting until I felt confident enough, polished enough.
And here we are, back to my thought of maybe I’m just looking for something safe, something I won’t disappoint myself with.
And yet, here I am. Showing up imperfectly, sharing pieces of myself without knowing who will read them, and letting this be messy, unpolished, and real.
So, 2026, my resolution is to be me, and to be proud of her.