You Don’t Need a “New You” in the Dead of Winter

I’ve been fairly preoccupied with pressing personal matters this holiday season (plus a family emergency for extra fun), because the universe’s timing is perfect as always with this stuff. But from the looks of my social media feeds, society still woke up [on January 1st] and decided it’s time for everyone’s yearly dose of intensity porn.

I hate it, y’all. With the fire of a thousand suns.

Seriously, it’s like the calendar flips, and suddenly we’re all expected to emerge from the holidays as sleek, motivated creatures who have totally “learned from last year” and are now magically ready to hit the ground running, because January.

Gyms fill up, and planners sell out. Everyone hops online and declares that this is the year they finally get their life together, whatever the hell that means anymore.

Meanwhile, it’s still dark at 4:30 PM, everyone’s bank account is recovering from whatever they did in December, and half the population is still eating leftover cookies for breakfast.

So even if someone isn’t a complete house goblin like me, there’s a real disconnect there. It’s weird to me that people don’t see it.

The “New Year, New Me” Industrial Complex

Now I’m definitely not opposed to change, nor am I a stranger to it. I like growth, and I’ve been known to enjoy a good intention or two. Some years I’ve even made New Year’s resolutions, although I tend to keep mine on the modest side, like “be slightly kinder to myself” or “stop pretending I enjoy hustle culture.”

But society’s version of traditional January self-improvement has always felt unnecessarily aggressive to me.

It assumes that motivation appears on command, that energy resets overnight, and that if you aren’t immediately ready to optimize your entire existence on January 1st, there’s something wrong with you. And we’re all expected to at least perform enthusiasm, even if our bodies and brains are still clearly in recovery mode.

I personally don’t love how weirdly joyless it all is for something that’s supposed to be about “becoming your best self.” Shouldn’t self-improvement feel… good? No wonder so many people just shrug and give up by the time February gets here.

Historically Speaking, This Was a Season for Lying Low

For most of human history, January was not the launchpad into future perfection people think it is today.

Winter was a time to pause. Literally. The fields were resting, travel slowed down during cold or inclement weather, and the work people did every day shifted inward instead. They repaired tools, told stories, slept more, and conserved energy because those things were part of what made survival possible back then.

They weren’t being lazy or self-indulgent, either. This was truly part of the ongoing business of being alive.

January was a time for maintenance and recovery, for getting through the dark months without burning yourself out before spring was so much as a glint on the horizon. But somewhere along the way, we all collectively decided to treat the bleakest, coldest part of the year like a motivational boot camp.

I personally blame bullshit capitalism and its desperate need to get people back to working, spending, and being relentless consumers as quickly as possible after the holidays. But your mileage may vary.

Modern Life Pretends Seasons Don’t Exist

Today’s modern systems treat human beings like interchangeable productivity units who should magically perform at the same high level all year round.

Most work doesn’t slow down because it’s winter anymore. Expectations don’t soften because everyone’s tired, either. We live our lives surrounded by artificial light, artificial urgency, and even more artificial benchmarks for success, all of which insist that January should feel “fresh” instead of heavy and introspective like it actually is.

Buy a program. Fix yourself. Try again, but louder. When what you really need is probably a lot closer to a nap and a mug of something warm to sip.

Rest Isn’t the Opposite of Progress

Most of us grew up thinking that rest and progress are enemies, and it really doesn’t have to be that way.

In practice, rest is often the thing that allows progress to happen at all. It’s when a person’s nervous system settles down long enough for clarity to show up. You stop reacting long enough to notice what actually needs to change, so you can make more natural progress later when it makes more sense.

In my personal experience, January has a way of surfacing truths without necessarily also offering immediate solutions to any dilemmas that come up, and I’ve learned to roll with that.

This is the time when I’m most likely to be thinking about what really drained me the year before, as well as what I tolerated out of habit (and refuse to anymore). I take inventory of all the things that quietly stopped working, because it’s always something.

And if whatever came up was complicated or hard to face, I might journal about it. (I see a lot of that in my immediate future this year, because… well… 2025 was a total shit show, and I have feelings about it.)

A More Realistic Way to Think About January

Honestly, if January is good for anything, I’d say it’s stuff like this:

• Recovering from the holidays instead of pretending they were “no big deal” or (worse) that you should actually feel refreshed once they’re over
• Letting your energy gradually come back online on its own, as nature intended, instead of forcing momentum because society says so
• Taking inventory of what you’re no longer interested in carrying forward into the year to come
• Resting without letting society talk you into reframing it as failure

I get that none of that is going to impress anyone on TikTok. None of it fits neatly into a before-and-after post, either. But I’ve personally found it makes much better groundwork for real change later.

Seeds don’t sprout in frozen ground, after all. They wait until the time is right to do their thing.

The Calendar Is Not Your Boss

If life’s taught me anything over the years, it’s that January doesn’t actually demand anything of you. Hustle culture and capitalism can try, but they’re not the boss of you.

One of the best things I ever gave myself permission to do with my life was yeet that “new year, new me” nonsense straight into the trash where I feel it belongs. Because, honestly, all it’s ever done is make me feel bad about myself.

So, if this is a month where you’re also quieter, slower, and more interested in maintenance than ambition, why not simply refuse to let anyone convince you that you’re falling behind? You might be more like me — someone who naturally responds to the dark season as Mother Nature actually intended.

There will be time for momentum, effort, big plans, and visible change. But it doesn’t have to be now unless that’s actually the way you want it.

Traditionally speaking, winter has never been that time, and that suits me just fine.

* Originally published at Of Wanderings and Words.