Instead of Resolutions…

Ah, New Year’s resolutions. 

The annual tradition where my younger self gathered my best intentions, sprinkled them with delusion, and announced to the universe that this was the year I became someone who stayed up late, drank Jägermeister Cold Brew, forgave everyone,  would do three Ironman races, saved money, would never utter another sarcastic comment to anyone, and never get annoyed in  traffic with said salty language.

Bold. Inspirational. 

Completely unrealistic.

Every January for many years, I would swear allegiance to a version of myself that clearly still does not exist yet—and let’s face it, maybe never. This unicorn  had endless energy, zero emotional baggage, a spotless house, and the discipline of a Navy SEAL. Meanwhile, the current real version is me (most days) trying to remember why I walked into the kitchen.  But I feel I am such a delight. 

So this year, my hope for all of you is to do something radical: skip the resolutions and lean into realizations.  I do love the intent of goals for the new year, the brand new calendar is like brand new pencil crayons in school every year, a brand new slate, and a brand new me. 

 However….that dog don’t hunt. Still.  And won’t.  Ever. 

Resolutions are loud. They yell things like, “I will lose 20 pounds,” or “I will finally get my life together,” as if my life had been scattered across the room like a toddler’s toy box. Realizations, on the other hand, are quieter and much smarter. They sip the cheap red wine, raise an eyebrow, and say, “Interesting… we keep repeating this pattern, don’t we?”

Here’s the first realization many of us are ready to admit: how much “fixin” do we really need? We’re not broken appliances waiting on a warranty claim. We’re humans—tired, complex, resilient humans—who’ve been carrying a lot. The problem isn’t that we aren’t good enough; it’s that we keep holding ourselves to standards that ignore reality– and honestly social media has not helped. At all. I am really enjoying the new trend of thrifting and less is best.  Finally some sense in our younger generation.

As a newly turned 59 year old, and filled with exorbitant wisdom now…, I can say this with great confidence: if New Year’s resolutions actually worked, I’d be done by now. Finished. Fully evolved. Floating somewhere above the chaos with no contractors to contact, clothes without elastic waists and a host of other unimaginable untruths. And yet—here I am. Still human. I'm still learning. Still drinking cheap red, and still enjoying the five dollar rotisserie chicken from Costco. 

So again this year, I shun resolutions. I don’t need another list of things I’m supposed to fix about myself. What I do have—after almost six decades of living, loving, losing, starting over, and figuring things out the hard way—are realizations. And frankly, they’re far more useful. If not more entertaining. 

Here’s the first one: nothing magically changes because the calendar does. I’ve lived long enough to know that January 1st is not a personality reset button. Growth doesn’t happen because we declare it loudly with a glass of champagne in our hand. My growth continues around my mid section, and I am pretty ok with that. People like me “as is” as it turns out. 

Another realization that comes with age is this: I don’t actually need to prove anything anymore. Not my worth. Not my work ethic. Not my strength. I have already shown up. I have raised a daughter, built a career, supported others, and carried responsibilities that no one applauded. The idea that I now need to hustle harder or keep up with some crazy standard just isn’t happening. 

The algorithms keep taking me to “tai chi for seniors,” and “ AI for over 40 year olds,” so maybe I will learn something new this year. I still have a library card– that I use–and nothing says nostalgia better than the ol’ Dewy Decimal system in a library. 

At 59, I’ve also realized that being busy is overrated. There was a time when full calendars felt important—necessary even. But now? Now I know that constantly being exhausted isn’t impressive; it’s just exhausting. Peace has become the real status symbol. A quiet morning. A walk without rushing. Time to sit and actually enjoy a cup of coffee while it’s still hot. Shopping at Costco on a Wednesday with all the other old folks is a win for me.

Let’s talk about boundaries, because that’s a realization that takes decades to earn. For years, many of us said yes out of obligation, guilt, or habit. Yes to things we didn’t want to do. Yes to people who drained us. Yes because it felt easier than explaining. The truth?  Maybe I don’t find you worth my time. The realization now? No is not unkind—it’s honest. 

And honesty, at this age, is a form of self-respect. I want to go to bed early because I actually like getting up early. End of story. No need to explain. 

Here’s another truth that becomes clearer with time: comparison is a young person’s game. We’ve lived long enough to know that everyone has chapters they don’t talk about. We’ve seen how quickly life can change—health, relationships, finances, plans. So the realization is this: there is no universal timeline. There is only our own life, unfolding exactly as it has.

Also, rest is not optional. This body has carried me a long way. It has healed, adapted, and kept going even when I didn’t listen. Now, it speaks a little louder.  A lot of times gassy thanks to protein shakes. 

I get to wake up and play whack a mole with whatever body part that magically overnight is now “out.” And the realization is simple: rest is not quitting. It’s wisdom. It’s maintenance. It’s how I stay well enough to enjoy the years I still want to participate in.  Crepey skin and all. 

So instead of resolutions like “I’ll finally get it all together,” the realizations sound more like:

• I already know what matters.  Friends, good food and wine. 

• I don’t need to rush anymore.  Unless it is on the freeway or Interstate.

• I’m allowed to change, even now.  If I remember I even wanted to.

At 59, I don’t need dramatic declarations.  So no—this year, once again I don’t have resolutions.
I have more realizations than I had this time last year.
And they’ve been hard-earned, and well-lived.  

Happy New Year everyone!

Colleen McCullough is the owner of The Virginia May Bed and Breakfast @ Eagle Mountain Lake.  You can follow the BnB  on Instagram and Facebook  @thevirginiamay