Why I Don’t Do New Year’s Resolutions Anymore (and What I Do Instead)

For a long time, I loved goal setting.

I loved the clean slate of a new year, the notebooks, the plans, the sense that if I just thought hard enough and planned well enough, I could shape the year exactly how I wanted it to be.

And to be fair — that approach worked, to a point. It helped me build a career, move countries, write books, run an ultramarathon, I ticked off some big life milestones.

But lately, I’ve been craving something different.

Something a little less rigid. A little less binary. A little more human.

As I move through my thirties towards my forties, I’m noticing that the question I’m asking myself isn’t “What can I achieve this year?” so much as “Who am I becoming? How do I want my life to feel?”

When goals stop being the answer

Many of the women I speak to are mid-career, capable, experienced, and deeply competent. We don’t need to prove ourselves in the same way we once did. We know how to work hard. We know how to deliver.

But often, alongside that confidence comes complexity.

More responsibility. More people we care about. More parts of life pulling at us — family, relationships, creative work, health, rest, joy. This is good! But in that context, the old school 'life wheel' goal setting can start to overwhelming, rather than exciting. Another set of targets layered on top of an already full life. Another way to measure ourselves — and sometimes, to fall short.

I’ve found myself asking: What if the problem isn’t that I'm nor trying hard enough? What if it’s that we’re planning in a way that doesn’t honour the season of life we’re in?

Starting with reflection, not resolution

When I began designing the workbook for my 2026 Clarity Retreat: Reflect, Reset, Rejuvenate, I knew I didn’t want to start with goals at all.

Instead, I wanted to start by looking back.

Before we rush forward into plans and intentions, there’s real value in asking:

• What actually happened this year?

• What gave me energy?

• What drained me?

• What did I learn about myself?

  
  

One of my favourite reflection prompts — and one I used myself recently — was simply to scroll back through the photos on my phone from the past year. It was grounding, surprising, and deeply human. It reminded me how much life had actually been lived, even in the moments that felt messy or unproductive at the time.

Values, identity, and priorities

From there, the work moves into three core areas I come back to again and again: Values, Identity, and Priorities.

Values help us reconnect with what matters beneath the noise — not what we think should matter, but what genuinely resonates for us now.

Identity work invites us to notice the labels we’ve outgrown, the expectations we’ve internalised, and the ways we might be forcing ourselves into shapes that no longer fit. Who are we really? What are our strengths? What are my natural rhythms, and how can I lean into those more? Who am I choosing to become?

Lastly, priorities. The “big rocks" and small habits help translate insight into action, without turning life into a never-ending to-do list.

This isn’t about abandoning ambition. It’s about aligning it.

What I’m doing instead this year

So this year, instead of resolutions, I’m focusing on:

• reflection before direction

• alignment before action

• becoming before achieving

I’m letting my plans grow out of who I am, not who I think I should be. I've turned this into a workbook to make it tangible. Now, I’m creating space — actual, physical space — to do this work thoughtfully, rather than squeezing it into the margins of an already full life.

If this way of approaching the new year resonates with you, you might enjoy the 2026 Clarity Retreat I’m running on 19 January at Zealandia. It’s a full day dedicated to reflection, recalibration, breathwork, and supported planning — without pressure, hustle, or rigid resolutions.

You can find the details here.

However you choose to approach the year ahead, I hope it feels calm, aligned, and spacious enough to hold the life you’re actually living.

With love,

Ruth