The Psychology of New Years Resolutions and the journal I no longer keep

Every Christmas growing up I would get a new journal. While my brother feigned surprise as he uncovered his annual restock of boardshorts and surf, I would excitedly tear the wrapping paper away to unveil the freshly bound pages that would soon be filled with my detailed plans for the year ahead. Tentative to not“ruin” the first page, I would take my newest smiggle pen and write “Goals” in my neatest cursive, before tearing it out and starting again at even the slightest smudge or wonky “a”. It had to be perfect. This year, I had to be perfect.

Personal goal setting is fundamental to human experience and drives a lot of our everyday behaviour. If approached with flexibility and a well rounded perspective, resolutions can promote positive adaptations in the new year that will continue to strengthen with time, even when the specific goal pursuit that was initially taken to is not successful. On the contrary, setting goals too unattainable with an all or nothing mindset can have negative psychological impacts and lead you to a downward spiral of self-criticism and feelings of inadequacy.

My resolutions were always drastic and dramatic. Goals to change the behaviour of people around me that I had no control over and get grades that were near impossible. The most harmful resolutions I would set, however, all concerned my body. “Eat Healthier. Get fitter. Lose weight.”

When it comes to eating disorders, the new year presents as the perfect storm. Off the back of the strange period that is Christmas to New years, where most conversations are punctuated by “what day is it again?” or “I’m still not hungry after lunch!” as if having prawns and ham 2 days ago was the most enormous amount of food anyone had ever eaten in their life.

It also marks the end to a series of events spent connecting over food, often with the company of older generations who have no filter when it comes to speaking about eating and body image. The celebrations flow on into January and as February hits, you can feel disappointed in yourself, like you’ve already “failed”. The “new year new me” rhetoric that was circulating through the media in January morphs into “my new year actually starts in February!” There can feel as though there is a collective pressure to “get back on track” or even punish ourselves for our “failure” to strictly adhere to the grand plans we’d mapped out.

This is backed by research, with a recent study from the International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health revealing that most people’s new year goals are centred around dieting, weight loss and fitness, and that 64% of people abandon their resolutions within a month, leading to feelings of guilt and insufficiency. It’s also important to note that amongst the myriad of biological and psychological factors implicated in the causation of eating disorders, engaging in dieting behaviour is one of the strongest risk factors for young people, with adolescent dieters being up to 18 times more likely to develop an eating disorder compared to non-adolescent dieters. In conjunction with the role guilt can play in the development of an eating disorder, it is clear how this cycle of setting goals and falling short with a rigid mindset can be dangerous and put you at high risk.

This February, if you are feeling disappointed that perhaps your “goals” haven’t eventuated as you thought they would have, don’t punish yourself. Adjust them accordingly, and if you can help it, decentre them from dieting and your body. Don’t let shame or guilt be a motivator for sticking to your goals, but rather let your resolutions be a reflection of your deeper values and things that really matter to you. For some people, that may be the way you look, and that’s ok. But it’s important to be aware of the risks in embarking on the resolution of wanting to drop a dress size, and consider how failure and even success of doing so will make you feel. Will you ever be truly satisfied? And is adopting a more neutral attitude towards your body perhaps more beneficial than deciding to try and turn it from hate to love on the 31st December?

I no longer receive a new journal for Christmas each year, nor do I set new years resolutions, partially because a part of me will always feel pressured to put something related to my body on that list. And largely, because I know how that can end. My new year doesn’t start in February because I wasn’t strict enough on myself throughout January, and each month to follow is no longer governed by punishment and rules. I don’t always love the way my body looks but I love all the extra space in my mind I have now that I’m not tirelessly trying to change it. And that freedom brings me far more joy than sticking to any resolution ever has.