January Doesn’t Get to Decide Who You Are
On wellness-oriented resolutions, resisting erasure, and why our worth isn't up for debate when the new year hits.
Last week, I posted a poll in my Instagram stories about resolutions—sharing that I can’t remember a time when I’ve set them. Admittedly, I don’t think the idea of a “resolution” would have ever worked on or for me, even if I had set one, because I’m wired to rebel against things like that.
I wasn’t sure what to expect in the results of that poll—maybe an even-ish split between those who set them (always/most of the time) and those who don’t (not really anymore/never been my thing)?
But a whopping 89% landed on the no-resolutions-team, with only 11% answering that they partake in the ritual of January resolve.
Given the type of community I have—those divesting from diet culture, rejecting oppressive ideals, understanding the social justice implications of health and wellness—I’m sure there is bias at play here. Because more of you / them are likely to be questioning the classic January messaging versus those who are part of a community focused on weight loss, 30-day plans, and visible abs.
And, at the same time, I do think there is a reckoning of sorts happening: a growing refusal to keep participating in systems that frame control as virtue and compliance as care.
For many people, opting out of resolutions isn’t about a lack of intention, it’s about recognizing how often “self-improvement” in January has for the most part been used to justify body surveillance, moral hierarchies around food and movement, and deprivation disguised as health.
(note: I am not against resolutions whatsoever. I know they can be a delightful way to check in for some folks—plus, the language we use can be a determinant…maybe many people relate more to the idea of intentions).
The start of a new year has historically functioned as a cultural ‘reset’ that disproportionately targets certain bodies. It packages restriction as ‘responsibility’ and calls it empowerment, all while remaining deeply entangled with racism, anti-fatness, ableism, and capitalism.
So someone choosing not to resolve isn’t a sign of apathy—it’s discernment. It’s an understanding that our bodies are not unfinished projects and that our worth has never been something we earn through micromanaging our vessels.
Even though I started this newsletter by naming my own rebel nature, at this point it feels less like rebellion and more like clarity. Not a desire to start over, but a commitment to stay—rooted in care, a resistance to erasure, and unwillingness to make our bodies the cost of belonging.
When I sit with all of this, it becomes clear just how much power a single month has had over our lived experiences. I know we’re a week into this year already, but I hope this finds you—especially if some of the “detox” and “new year, new me” noise is getting a bit too loud—because I was writing down some of my thoughts about January over the weekend, and this poem came out…
January doesn’t get to decide who you are.
It doesn’t get to shrink you
down to a checklist,
or turn your body into a renovation project
with no end date.
January doesn’t get to steal your values.
It doesn’t get to tell you
self-worth is when you fit in a number,
or that sugar is a crime,
or that your body’s signals are negotiable.
January doesn’t get to rob your peace.
It doesn’t get to make rest feel lazy,
slowness feel indulgent,
your walks insufficient,
your stretching inadequate.
January doesn’t get to rewrite your story.
It doesn’t get to make your hunger
into “noise” to suppress,
your wrinkles a mistake, your joy conditional—
things your body already knows how to hold.
January doesn’t get to erase your healing.
It doesn’t get to forget the ways
you have learned less body hatred,
and how that hate only exists,
because the world invented it.
January doesn’t get to define your space.
It doesn’t get to pilfer your presence
with distractions that deny your right
to the pizza, to the memories,
to simply exist without shame.
January doesn’t get to rewrite your rules.
It doesn’t get to shame your snacks,
your cozy clothes,
the stretch of a waistband,
or what it feels like to sink into the couch.
January doesn’t get to judge you.
It doesn’t get to lie about bodies—
to coerce you into believing
that all of this is a competition,
a way to measure your life’s work.
No, January doesn’t get to decide who we are.
But it can remind us
of what a home really feels like—
and what it does not.
Yes, our bodies are our homes. Not our projects, our offerings, or our performances.
I genuinely believe diet culture can reveal our values—not in the ways it wants, but in the way it feels when it presses in. Through the ick it stirs, the grief it unearths, the flickers of joy it tries to shame, we can start to see what truly matters to us. It shows us where we already belong, what we want to protect, and where we refuse to compromise—no matter how loudly it shouts for us to “just get on board.”
If or when something triggers you this month—an ad, a comment, a thought that feels sharp or familiar—try to pause long enough to ask where and why it hurts. Not to fix it our override it, but to listen.
Because I don’t know about you, but starting over is not the energy I want to bring into this year. It’s to keep going. What I want is continuity. Trust. Staying in relationship with my body instead of abandoning it on a schedule.
Not a reset or a reinvention. Just the quiet, radical work of returning.
If this landed for you, I’d love to hear about it. You’re welcome to share in the comments—whether that’s a sentence, a fragment, or something you’re still figuring out.
A few gentle prompts, if you need them:
What does “staying” look like for you right now?
What is January asking of you that you’re no longer willing to give?
And a small, practical note—liking, commenting, sharing, or re-stacking this post helps this work reach people who might need it, especially in a season when diet culture gets loud. There’s no obligation here, just appreciation.
Thank you for being here and for choosing presence over performance—especially in January.
I'm still at least a little seduced by the idea of resolutions...or intentions, or whatever you call it but I'm not making any that are body related (except that I would like to think about my body less). I've been focusing on ones about reading books (more rereading, more noir), and attitudes/values in general. One potential resolution I thought of was "consume less, devour more". I also like "living by my values," informed by you, Abbie!
Love the idea of intentions vs resolutions! But what really struck me was “starting over is not the energy I want to bring into this year. It’s to keep going.” It celebrates the growth, it honors the present, and it holds visions of the future. That right there - the idea of a continuum where I am being intentional with my next steps feels so compassionate!