I never stick to a New Year's Resolution - How can this year be different?

Personally, I don’t do “resolutions” or yearly goals unless they’re incredibly abstract. “I will spend more time at home.” or “I will work less.” Less measurable goals. I won’t even make a goal like, “I will lose ten pounds.” That’s less than one pound per month, and I still won’t. Here’s why: Long-term goals are fucked. They’re set-ups meant for us to fail. Like my ten pounds example, I could lose five in the first month, but then I have an extra pound to lose for five months without gaining anything I’ve already lost back. What about limited-edition sweets? What about coffee drinks? What if my spouse and I get so bogged down with work that we eat out more? Long-term goals are great and can happen – if sneakily broken into short increments. That’s what I do; I call them “Lents.”

While I’m not particularly religious (I consider myself spiritual), I grew up in a religious household. I know what “Lent” is. The thing that sticks out to me, that I can hold onto, is you give something up for it. It’s for forty days, which is still a little long for my taste. I tend to use months. This month, I will/will not X. For more difficult things, I go for a week or two weeks, depending on how difficult they are. Sometimes it works, and other times it doesn't.

When it comes to the things we want to kick, we all have bad habits, vices, and, some of us, addictions. I’m lucky to only have the first two, but I have friends who are former and have struggled yet overcome additions, drugs, and booze being favorites. From three-year chips to thirty-years, they celebrate and show off their chips, and they should. They should celebrate thirty days, seven days. I don’t use the term addict because it bothers me. I think it’s bathed in judgment, and I don’t think anyone I know, including friends who have struggled with addiction, appreciates it, but it’s important to know they always will be; say how they live by a mantra of “one day at a time,” and I guess this follows the same concept. Stop looking at this far-off bit of time and focus on it right now. The one thing these habits, vices, or addictions have in common is they need to be quit cold turkey. Even when it’s people. Especially then.

You’ll laugh, but in my twenties and early thirties, I always came up with 48 resolutions. Wild, right? I wanted to have a “balanced life,” which, while I understand life/work balance, I fail miserably at it. I don’t think any life is truly balanced. Good God, any parent will tell you that children change the game, but this was before I was thinking of starting a family, so I had this luxury and split my life into Work, Health, House/Relationships, and Personal. The latter were things like books I wanted to read. Can you imagine? I shake my head at my former self. I was spread out so thin that I didn’t meet a single one.

I whittled it down, failing until I only had one. One resolution, and I failed. Granted, I started strong. I think perhaps having a goal when you make a resolution, you’re thinking about the finish line. Where you’ll end up or what you’ll quit for good or an affirmation, pick up a new, good habit and keep with it – you’re looking at “the end.” The end is, pardon my language, bullshit. It’s a new year, which means a new beginning. Big things happen by taking small steps. You reach one benchmark that shouldn’t exceed thirty days or a month. If you grew up participating in Lent, you know how this works, though we’re not going for forty days. We’re going thirty or less.

The latest for me – ice cream. It seems like such a horrible thing to deprive yourself of, at least in my opinion. You watch movies, and when someone is depressed or dumped, they’re usually eating ice cream in the next scene, trying to get over it. However, I’d kill 2-3 small X every week. I loved my ice cream. I don’t count calories, those coming in or out. I’m not so skinny you’d call me a twig, but I don’t think I qualify as curvy, either. Still, that much ice cream in such a short time, regularly – that can’t be healthy. It’s a wonder I’m not diabetic.

This was last month, December. With the holidays, I wasn’t about to discount sweets in general because of all the cookies and festive out-of-the-oven things. I wasn’t going to do a certain amount of exercise every day for the same reason. I’m not stupid. However, ice cream, a sweet, full of bad calories, has nothing to do with the holidays. As hard as it was, and believe me, it’s hard, that was totally acceptable. I did it. I still haven’t broken it. More toward the end of January than not, but I haven’t given myself a second “I won’t,” so I’m quite proud, and I’m going to. Probably for the rest of the month because I’m afraid there’ll be some irresistible limited-time Valentine’s Day flavors, so I won’t commit to it in February. When the time comes, however, I’ll limit myself to limited flavors, only if they speak to me, and eat them in limited amounts. After, I’ll quit until the next holiday when limited flavors are likely because I know I can. Because I did it for a month, and that makes me confident I can go another month.

You can build on smaller increments of time, and that makes it easier to meet your goal. You’re not committed to a year; you’re committed to a week or a month, or maybe just a few days, and once you reach your finish line, you do it again. It becomes easier to go without each time. Depending on what it is, like in my case, ice cream, you may know, “Okay, it’s going to be hard to get around that.” It’s not FOMO, it’s MO. Depending on what it is, allow yourself potential permission. Like I’ve heard of people doing while dieting. Sorry, I’m not much of a diet person, but there are those “cheat days.” Except, don’t tell yourself you’re cheating. Cheating has such a negative connotation. You’re giving yourself limited and temporary permission due to an exception.

Yes, if you do this every day, throw that lent away. You’re not doing it. However, since you’ve taken the time to write to me, I think you’re doing it, or will do it, and I think you’ll succeed. Small steps, perhaps baby steps. Then adolescent steps, teenager steps (well, maybe skip those), new adult steps, and then full-on grownup steps. Then you’re the adult. You’re in charge of whatever you should/should not do or be wherever you hoped or didn’t hope to be. You’ll wonder, “How did I make it this time?” Small steps and keep going; allow yourself permission, but only if there is good reason, and then go back to those small steps. By the end of the year, you’re going to be, “Damn, I did good.”

Happy Lenting, My Dear,

Love, M