New Year's Resolutions and the Myth of “Fixing” Yourself
Anne Tankersley Botter
January 12, 2026
Every January, the same message comes flooding in from every direction: New year, new you.
It's on magazine covers. It's in your inbox. It's in the gym ads, the diet programs, the apps promising to finally help you become the person you've been meaning to be.
And underneath all of it is a quieter message — one you might not even notice because it's so familiar:
Something about you is broken. And this is the year you're finally going to fix it.
I get why that message is tempting to believe. There's something almost hopeful about the idea that if you just try hard enough, push yourself enough, discipline yourself enough — you'll finally arrive at the version of yourself that's worthy of love, rest, and belonging.
But here's the thing: that message isn't true. And chasing it might be the very thing keeping you stuck.
Why New Year's Resolutions Fail
You've probably heard the stats. Around 80% of resolutions fail by February. Only about 8% of people actually achieve their goals.
The usual explanations focus on strategy: your goals weren't specific enough, you didn't have an accountability partner, you didn't track your progress.
But I don't think the problem is your planning. I think the problem is the premise.
Most resolutions are built on a foundation of shame. They start from the assumption that something about you is wrong and needs to be corrected. I'm too lazy. I'm too undisciplined. I'm too much of a mess.
And when you start from that place — when the whole project is rooted in the belief that you're not okay as you are — you're set up to fail before you begin. Because shame is not a good motivator. It might get you to the gym for a week or two. But it won't carry you through the long, slow, unglamorous work of actually caring for yourself.
You can't hate yourself into becoming someone you love.
You're Not Broken — But You Might Need Some Tending
Here's what I want you to hear, and I mean this: You are not broken.
That's not a pep talk. It's not a "live your truth" affirmation. It's not something I'm saying to make you feel better.
It's just true.
You are a whole person. You always have been.
Now — does that mean everything is fine and nothing needs to change? Not necessarily. You might be carrying things that are heavy. You might have patterns that aren't serving you. You might need support, rest, healing, or new skills.
But needing care is not the same as being broken.
Think about it like a garden. A garden needs tending. It needs water, sunlight, attention. Sometimes you have to pull weeds or prune back branches that have grown in the wrong direction. But you wouldn't look at a garden and say it's broken just because it needs tending.
You're the same way. You might need some attention. That doesn't mean something is fundamentally wrong with you.
This is a small shift in language, but it changes everything. When you approach yourself as someone worth caring for — rather than a problem to be solved — the whole thing feels different.
Where the "Broken" Message Comes From
For some people, this belief that something is wrong with them didn't start with resolution culture. It started much earlier.
Maybe it was a parent who made love feel conditional. Maybe it was a school environment where you never quite measured up. Maybe it was a faith community where you were taught — explicitly or not — that you came into this world flawed, sinful, in need of saving.
If that's part of your story, I want you to know: the weight you're carrying didn't start with you. And it's not yours to keep carrying.
The message that you're inherently broken was handed to you. It was never the truth.
What If You Didn't Need Fixing?
So what would it look like to enter this year differently?
Not with a list of everything you need to change. Not with white-knuckled determination to finally become someone acceptable. But with something softer: the intention to care for yourself the way you'd care for someone you love.
That might look like rest. It might look like boundaries. It might look like moving your body because it feels good, not because you're punishing yourself. It might look like finally reaching out to talk to someone — not because you're broken, but because you deserve support.
This isn't about lowering your standards or giving up on growth. It's about changing why you grow. Not to earn your worth — but because you already have it.
You are not a project to be completed. You are a person to be cared for.
A Different Kind of Starting Point
If any of this resonated — if you've spent years trying to fix yourself and you're exhausted — I want you to know there's another way.
Therapy isn't about fixing what's broken. At least, not the way I do it. It's about tending to what needs attention, with someone in your corner who gets it.
You don't have to have it all figured out before you reach out. You don't have to be ready. You just have to be willing to start.
If you're curious what that might look like, I offer a free 15-minute consultation. No pressure — just a conversation to see if we're a good fit.
You're not broken. You never were.