At the start of 2025, I was determined to make it my year. I made vision boards, set goals and carefully crafted a list of ins and outs to prep myself for success. I was ready to achieve everything I wanted.
But by April, I had taken down the ins and outs list, deleted my goals page and moved my vision board somewhere I wouldn’t see it every day. I let go of my New Year’s resolutions—and I’ve never been happier.
Every January, we’re bombarded with “new year, new me” messaging that feels like a setup for failure. There’s something addictive about a fresh start—but also something incredibly overwhelming. Year after year, we create goals that fizzle out by February and end up feeling disappointed. I was convinced this year would be different; I would finally become the version of myself I had always imagined.
March was a month of transformation. As the seasons shifted, something inside me did too. I craved forward motion. I started making changes—big and small—that helped me feel more aligned with the person I was becoming.
During a round of spring cleaning, I found myself staring at my ins and outs list. I asked: How much of this still reflects where I am in life? How many of these things have I actually embraced?
To my surprise, I had brought in quite a few new habits and let go of some old ones. In: quiet mornings and long walks. Out: doomscrolling and forcing productivity. That felt good. But most of the list didn’t feel relevant anymore. This led me down the rabbit hole of revisiting my actual goals.
That, unfortunately, was a little less inspiring.
As I scrolled through the list, I realized many of my resolutions weren’t feasible—or just weren’t me anymore. My priorities had shifted, and so had the direction of my life. I realized it was time to create goals that supported who I was becoming, not cling to the version of myself I had in mind when the year started.
So I did the only thing that felt right: I tore up the ins and outs list, deleted the goals and started fresh. I opened a new doc with just a few short-term intentions. I redefined what I wanted—and gave myself permission to change.
A year to remember
I rewrote what success looks like for me. I chose peace over constant productivity. I started focusing on projects that truly moved me forward. One of my original resolutions was to write one or two articles a month. That goal has changed completely. I’ve had the blessing of exploring my passion for writing in new ways, and shifting the direction of my goals has made them feel more personal—and more sustainable.
Letting go doesn’t mean giving up—it means growing. So, if your goals are collecting dust or your vision board is buried under laundry, that’s OK. Maybe you’re not off track. Maybe you’re finally living.
What would happen if we allowed ourselves to evolve instead of forcing ourselves to follow through?
Now, my goals are less about the perfect routine and more about what feels right day to day. And honestly? That feels like growth.