Why most new year advice fails, and what to try instead
Every December and January, the same advice gets recycled.
New year, new you
This is your year
Set big goals
Start fresh
Map out the perfect plan
And every year, people end up feeling behind and defeated by February (or more realistically, half way through January) and quietly wondering how they screwed it up, or why they weren’t good enough.
It’s not your fault! The advice is flawed.
The problem with most New Year phrases is that they aim at the outcome instead of the process. They sound inspiring, but they don’t tell your brain what to actually do on a random Tuesday in February when motivation is gone and life is loud.
I just want to preface this by saying that I actually have a pretty solid track record with New Year’s resolutions. I’m annoyingly good at following through when I decide something matters. So I’m not saying the mainstream advice is impossible, I’m saying most of it makes it way harder than it needs to be.
If you're one of the people that the mainstream advice works for… AMAZING! Keep doing your thing and crushing it!
But if it doesn’t work for you, this blog is for you!
Let’s dive into the mainstream advice out there, why it might be setting you up to fail and what to do instead!
1. New year, new me
“New year, new me” is built on a fantasy that isn’t how humans actually work.
It assumes that a date on the calendar magically resets your habits, your nervous system, your energy levels, your responsibilities, your trauma, your personality, and your environment.
It treats change like a software update instead of what it actually is, a slow, boring, repetitive process that happens while life is still happening.
January does not give you new motivation.
January gives you the same brain, in worse weather, with more pressure, and less daylight.
The phrase also quietly implies that who you were before wasn’t good enough. That last year’s version of you was something to discard instead of understand.
That’s a brutal starting point.
Shame is a terrible fuel source for change, and yet that’s exactly what “new year, new me” runs on.
It focuses on identity replacement instead of behaviour change. People don’t fail because they didn’t want it badly enough. They fail because wanting something and building systems, routines, and supports for it are not the same thing.
You can declare a new you all you want, but if nothing in your daily life changes, nothing changes.
There’s also a timing problem no one talks about.
January is one of the hardest months of the year for many people.
Financial stress
Burnout from the holidays
Seasonal depression
Unrealistic expectations stacked on top of low energy. Declaring a total personal overhaul during this month is like deciding to run a marathon while you’re sick and mad about it.
Most importantly, the phrase oversimplifies growth.
Real growth usually looks like small adjustments. Keeping some things, letting go of others.
Iterating
Backsliding
Learning
Trying again
It’s messy and unbranded and doesn’t fit nicely on an Instagram caption.
You don’t need a new you.
You need an honest look at what worked, what didn’t, and what you can realistically support in your real life.
Change doesn’t happen because the year changed, it happens because something in your environment, your habits, or your expectations did.
And none of that requires pretending you’re a completely different person on January 1.
Here are better frames that actually line up with how change works
New year, same me, fewer self sabotaging choices
This keeps your identity intact and focuses on removing issues instead of adding pressure. You don’t need to become someone new, you need to stop doing the handful of things that keep tripping you up.
New year, small adjustments
This is boring, that’s why it works. One or two changes you can sustain beats ten dramatic ones you abandon by mid January.
New year, supported me
This shifts the question from “what should I do?” to “what support do I need?” Support can be systems, boundaries, reminders, accountability, rest, or asking for help. People fail resolutions because they rely on willpower instead of support.
New year, fewer decisions
Decision fatigue kills consistency. If something matters, it shouldn’t rely on daily choice. Defaults, routines, and automation free up brain space for other things.
New year, build on the life I already have
This one acknowledges reality. You are not starting from scratch, you’re building on top of an existing life with real constraints. You have to respect reality for change to really stick, when you ignore it you’re setting yourself up for the impossible.
If you want a simple rule that beats any slogan, it’s this
Don’t ask “who do I want to be this year?” Ask “what would make my days slightly easier?”
That question leads to changes you can actually keep.
2. This is my year
“This is my year” sounds powerful, but it’s mostly wishful thinking dressed up as confidence.
It assumes that life is fair, predictable, and waiting politely for you to declare dominance over it.
That once you say the words, the universe will cooperate (i’m sorry, you can’t just manifest your perfect life…). Anyone who has lived through a single unexpected diagnosis, layoff, breakup, global crisis, family emergency, or random Tuesday knows that’s not how years work.
Years don’t belong to anyone, they happen to you while you’re busy making plans.
The phrase also sets up an all or nothing trap.
If things go well, you credit the declaration.
If things go sideways, it suddenly feels like personal failure.
One bad quarter, one setback, one messy season, and people spiral into “guess this wasn’t my year after all,” instead of recognizing that difficulty is part of every year, even good ones.
“This is my year” puts the focus on outcomes instead of actions.
It’s vague on purpose.
What does it actually mean?
More money?
Better health?
Happiness?
Success?
Growth?
It tries to claim every win without defining the work required for any of them. When nothing specific is defined, nothing specific gets built.
There’s also a control fantasy baked into it, as if effort alone determines results. As if timing, privilege, health, support systems, and pure randomness don’t matter. That mindset doesn’t motivate people, it exhausts them, because when reality doesn’t cooperate, they blame themselves for not wanting it badly enough.
The hardest part is that the phrase leaves no room for survival years. The years where your biggest win is getting through. Where progress looks like holding steady, not leveling up.
Calling those years a failure because they weren’t “your year” is deeply unfair to yourself.
A year doesn’t need to be “yours” to be valuable.
It can be challenging and still meaningful
Messy and still important
Quiet and still growth
Real confidence doesn’t come from claiming a year in advance, it comes from showing up, adjusting when things break, and continuing anyway.
You don’t need to own the year, you just need to live in it.
Here are frames that actually hold up in real life
This is the year I show up consistently
Not perfectly or dramatically, just consistently. Consistency will survive the chaos of life and business when motivation decides to take the day, week or month off.
This is the year I stop waiting to feel ready
Most change doesn’t start with confidence, it starts with doing the thing badly and continuing anyway. You might never be ready, start anyways.
This is the year I build capacity
Instead of chasing wins, you increase what you can handle. More energy, better boundaries and stronger routines. What you’re building first is resilience, not results! The results come later.
This is the year I make fewer promises and keep more of them (to myself)
Especially unrealistic and emotionally charged promises to yourself. That way the promises you do make are ones you can actually keep.
This is the year I measure progress differently
Judge progress by how you bounce back when you fall, not how flawless you are.
Learning and staying consistent matter more than quick wins.
Just remember
Leave room for effort, reality, setbacks, and growth without turning the calendar into a performance review.
3. Set big goals
“Set big goals” sounds ambitious, but most of the time it’s lazy advice that skips the part where change actually happens.
Big goals are seductive because they let you feel productive without doing anything concrete. Saying “I want to lose 50 pounds,” “I want to double my income,” or “I want to be happier” gives your brain a dopamine hit. It feels like progress… it’s not.
It’s just a statement of desire with no mechanism attached.
The biggest problem is that big goals focus on outcomes you don’t directly control; the scale, the market, other people, timing, or your energy on any given day.
You control behaviours.
When people anchor their motivation to outcomes instead of behaviours, they feel successful only when the goal is achieved and defeated every day it isn’t.
Big goals also hide the boring work and skip the uncomfortable questions.
What do I actually have to do differently on a daily basis?
What habits need to change?
What support do I need?
What am I willing to stop doing?
A big goal doesn’t answer any of that, it just points vaguely at a future version of your life and hopes you figure it out along the way.
There’s also a psychological trap.
Research on motivation and goal setting shows that overly ambitious goals can reduce persistence, especially when progress is slow. When the gap between where you are and where you want to be feels massive, your brain reads it as failure instead of progress.
That’s why people quit.
Not because they lack discipline, but because the goal feels impossibly far away.
Big goals are especially brutal in unpredictable environments.
Life does not move in straight lines
Health issues happen
Money gets weird
Kids
Work
Stress
Grief
Burnout
The state of the world
All of it interferes.
Another issue no one talks about is identity pressure.
Big goals often come with an unspoken expectation to become a different person overnight.
More disciplined
More confident
More consistent
When your actions don’t match that imagined identity, people internalize it as a personal flaw instead of a design problem.
The irony is that big goals aren’t useless because they’re ambitious, they’re useless because they’re vague, outcome focused, and disconnected from how humans actually change.
Big goals look impressive on paper but small, specific behaviours change lives.
Something better than “set big goals” is to stop obsessing over the destination and start designing the path.
Big goals ask, “Where do you want to end up?” Better approaches ask, “What can I actually do, repeatedly, in real life?”
Here are alternatives that are grounded in how motivation and behaviour actually work.
Set behaviour based goals
Instead of “lose 50 pounds,” it’s “walk for 20 minutes after dinner four days a week.” Behaviours are within your control but outcomes are not. When you hit the behaviour, you win, even if the result takes time.
Set small goals that create momentum
Early wins matter! They build confidence and make effort feel worthwhile. Goals should feel slightly challenging but obviously doable, not heroic.
Set goals you can hit on your worst day (floor goals, not stretch goals)
A floor goal is what you can commit to doing every day, even on your worst day. When you set your goals there, you don’t fall off completely when motivation drops or life gets chaotic. On good days, you’ll naturally do more. On hard days, you still show up, and that’s what keeps progress moving.
Focus on systems, not milestones
Milestones only happen occasionally, but systems are what you do every day. A good system keeps working even when motivation disappears, and if the system is solid, the milestone shows up as a result over time.
Shorten the feedback loop
Design goals so you can quickly tell whether you’re on the right track. Immediate signals like checklists, routines, or visible progress matter more than waiting months for a payoff. Fast feedback keeps you engaged long enough for results to follow.
Define success as staying engaged
Instead of “Did I hit the goal?” ask “Did I keep going?” Persistence is the real predictor of long term change.
If you want one sentence that replaces “set big goals,” it’s this.
Design goals you can survive on your worst week, not ones that only work when everything goes right.
That’s how people actually make progress.
All three ideas fail for the same reason
They treat change like a declaration instead of a practice.
“New year, new me,” “this is my year,” and “set big goals” all promise transformation through intention.
Say the words > claim the outcome > aim high > magically the hard parts will sort themselves out.
They won’t.
Those phrases focus on identity, ownership, and outcomes, none of which you directly control.
They ignore context, energy, capacity, support, timing, and the fact that most days are unremarkable and inconvenient. They also quietly turn normal struggle into personal failure when reality does what reality always does.
The alternatives all point in the same direction.
Stop trying to reinvent yourself
Stop trying to predict or own the year
Stop chasing distant outcomes.
Instead, work with how change actually happens.
Keep your identity intact and adjust your behaviour
Decide how you’ll respond, not how things must turn out
Build small, repeatable actions you can sustain when motivation is gone
Real progress is unglamorous and quieter. It’s built on consistency, support, and realistic expectations.
Change doesn’t come from bold statements about the future, it comes from designing your life so the next right action is easier to take.
Everything else is just marketing.
