Why the New Year Is Not the Season for Resolutions

by Dr. Denise Renye

Every January we are told to reinvent ourselves.

New year, new you.

Try harder. Do more. Fix what is broken.

And yet, so many people quietly feel like they have already failed by mid-February. Not because they lack discipline or willpower, but because the timing itself is off.

In the Northern Hemisphere, January is deep winter. The land is not blooming. The trees are not pushing new growth. Animals are not migrating or multiplying. Nature is conserving energy, resting beneath the surface, and tending to what cannot be rushed.

Humans are not separate from this rhythm, even though modern culture often pretends we are.

Winter Is an Inner Season

Mid-winter is not a time of expansion. It is a time of contraction.

It is the season of shorter days, longer nights, and quieter energy. Psychologically and emotionally, winter often brings us closer to our inner world. Memories surface. Grief becomes more noticeable. Fatigue can deepen. Questions we have avoided all year may gently, or not so gently, knock on the door.

This is not a problem to solve.

It is an invitation.

When we push ourselves to make dramatic life changes in January, we are often asking ourselves to override a very real biological and emotional need for rest, reflection, and integration. No wonder resolutions tend to collapse. We are planting seeds into frozen ground and then blaming ourselves when nothing grows.

Why Resolutions Often Do Not Last

Many resolutions are rooted in self-criticism rather than self-respect.

They come from a place of:

• “I should be better by now.”

• “Something about me needs fixing.”

• “If I just had more discipline, I would finally be okay.”

When change is driven by shame, it rarely sustains itself.

Lasting change requires relationship. It requires listening. It requires an honest understanding of where we actually are, not where we think we should be.

Winter does not ask for performance. It asks for presence.

The Forgotten Work of Grief

Winter is also a season of grief, whether we name it or not.

Grief for what did not happen. Grief for what ended. Grief for versions of ourselves that no longer exist. Grief for hopes that quietly changed shape.

Our culture rarely gives space for this kind of tending. Instead, it urges us to move on quickly, stay positive, and look ahead.

But grief that is not felt does not disappear. It settles into the body. It shows up as exhaustion, numbness, irritability, or a vague sense of disconnection from meaning.

When we allow winter to be a time of grieving, something essential softens. We stop fighting reality. We stop forcing ourselves forward. We create the conditions for honesty and healing.

Going Inward Is Not Giving Up

Resting is not quitting.

Going inward is not avoidance.

Slowing down does not mean you are falling behind.

It means you are listening.

There is a quiet strength in allowing yourself to be human rather than optimized. In letting this season be about containment instead of ambition. In asking gentler questions like:

• What am I tired of carrying?

• What needs care rather than correction?

• What feels unfinished and wants to be honored?

These are winter questions. They do not demand immediate answers.

If Not Resolutions, Then What?

Instead of resolutions, winter supports intentions of presence.

Small practices of attunement. Moments of rest without justification. Honest reflection without judgment.

This might look like:

• Sleeping more

• Moving your body slowly and intuitively

• Writing without an agenda

• Letting emotions arise without trying to fix them

• Saying no more often

None of this is flashy. None of it fits neatly into a productivity framework.

And yet, this is where real change begins.

Trust the Seasons of Your Life

Growth does not happen on demand. It happens in cycles.

Winter prepares the ground. Spring brings emergence. Summer expands. Autumn releases.

When we honor the season we are actually in, rather than the one we think we should be in, we stop waging war on ourselves.

If this new year feels quiet, heavy, reflective, or slow, there is nothing wrong with you.

You may simply be in winter.

And winter has its own wisdom.

It does not rush. It does not perform. It does not apologize for needing rest.

Neither should you.

If this resonates and you’re feeling the need for support during this inward season, this is the kind of work I hold space for. You don’t have to navigate winter alone. I offer therapy and coaching, consultation for those clinicians wanting (and needing!) to slow down, listen more deeply, and tend to what is emerging beneath the surface.