I’m Not Making Resolutions This Year. Here’s What I’m Doing Instead.

An Ending That Feels Like a Beginning

2025 has been a year of brave and honest exploration. A year of slowing down enough to truly look at my life and make conscious decisions about what no longer serves me and what genuinely nourishes my soul. This clarity did not arrive through dramatic upheaval or sudden reinvention, but through quiet moments of listening, noticing, and telling myself the truth. Professionally and personally, I began to recognize where effort had turned into depletion and where obligation had replaced alignment. Letting go was not an act of failure or giving up. It was an act of respect for my nervous system, my values, and the life I am actively choosing to grow into. Releasing what no longer fits has been less about loss and more about creating space for what feels alive, sustainable, and true.

The idea of “letting go” is often discussed as a mindset shift, and perhaps that is part of the work. However, I am inclined to lean into the reality that letting go often begins by noticing discomfort in the body and the connection that discomfort has to the messages our nervous system offers us, if we are willing to listen. My body knows before my mind does when something has run its course. The tightness. The fatigue. The subtle dread that appears even when things look fine on paper.

This year, I have been listening more closely. Releasing roles, expectations, habits, and relational patterns that once felt protective but now feel constricting. What once kept me safe no longer needs to run the show.

Choosing Courage Over Armor

Brené Brown said it perfectly when she shared, “It’s not fear that gets in the way of showing up. It’s armor. It’s the behaviors we use to self-protect. We can be afraid and brave at the same time. But armor suffocates courage and cages our hearts.” Letting go requires courage, not the loud or performative kind, but the quiet vulnerability of showing up without armor. Of saying no when approval used to feel essential. Of trusting my internal signals more than external validation.

Courage, I have learned, is not about pushing harder. It is about staying present when discomfort arises and allowing myself to be seen in the process. Vulnerability has become less about exposure and more about alignment.

Self-Awareness and Boundaries Over Resolutions for the New Year

New year, new you? Every January, we are sold the idea that change happens through grand declarations and sheer willpower. But most resolutions fail not because we lack discipline, but because they ignore our bodies and the quiet signals telling us something needs to shift in how we are managing our lives. Sometimes change begins as a soft, persistent whisper. When ignored, that whisper can turn into an alarm.

What if, instead of resolutions, we chose to listen when the whisper first appears? What if we created change based on the wisdom of our own internal knowing rather than the demands of New Year’s resolutions, which are often rooted in shame, urgency, or self-rejection? When change is driven this way, the body resists. Sustainable change does not come from demanding more of ourselves. It comes from creating safety, rhythm, and trust.

This year, I choose self-awareness and boundaries rather than resolutions. I choose to listen to the wisdom of my body and my deepest sense of knowing. I choose to honor what is right for me rather than the obligations of life that can so easily take over.

Consistency as a Form of Self-Trust: How Change Actually Happens

Letting go of what is not working and choosing the courage to meet life as it actually is, not just how I wish it would be, has asked something different of me this year. It is not about pushing harder or fixing myself. It is about choosing consistency over resolution. Small, embodied commitments practiced over time. Practices that honor my capacity. Choices I can return to again and again, even after I stumble or drift. This is where real change has lived for me, not in grand promises, but in steady, compassionate presence.

Consistency is not rigid. It is relational. It is the ongoing conversation between intention and reality, between who I have been and who I am becoming.

As I step into 2026, I am less interested in reinventing myself and more committed to staying with myself. Letting go of what no longer fits. Choosing courage. Returning, again and again, to what feels true.

If this resonates with you, see the next session on some practical ways to let go and honor your own internal voice. 

How to Begin Letting Go and Choosing Consistency

Letting go and choosing consistency does not start with a dramatic decision or a perfectly formed plan. It begins with listening.

Start by noticing what your body is already telling you. Where do you feel tension, fatigue, or resistance in your day-to-day life? Where does your energy drain rather than expand? These sensations are not problems to fix. They are information. Your nervous system often knows long before your mind is ready to admit it when something is no longer aligned.

Instead of asking, What should I change this year? try asking, What feels unsustainable? or What am I doing out of obligation rather than truth? Let these questions sit with you. You do not need immediate answers.

From there, choose one small place to practice consistency rather than overhaul. This might look like honoring your capacity instead of pushing through exhaustion. It might mean setting a gentle boundary, creating more space in your schedule, or returning to a grounding practice you already trust. Consistency does not require perfection. It only asks that you come back.

When you drift or abandon the practice, notice how you speak to yourself. Sustainable change grows in environments of compassion, not criticism. Each return is part of the work.

Finally, allow courage to be quiet. Courage may look like saying no. Like disappointing someone. Like choosing rest, slowness, or alignment over productivity. Vulnerability often shows up not as disclosure, but as honesty with yourself.

Letting go is not something you force. Consistency is not something you prove. Both are built through relationship, with your body, your values, and your inner sense of knowing. Over time, those small, steady choices create a life that feels less effortful and more true.

With Light and Love,

Allison