𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗨𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗧𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄𝘀

Written by Ryza Reign Dizon | Graphics by Nikka Gutierrez | Layout by Jayane Leslie Feliciano

It’s that time of the year again, as in every season, when the earth affords the human race time to breathe. Indeed, it is a moment when both the promise of a new calendar year and the promise of the old one create a strange tension of relief. It is a time to reflect, to have hopes, and to wish for a much better tomorrow. At the same time, it is also the time that brings the most evident closure to our well-intentioned goals. All the bright, lofty New Year’s resolutions of the first day are bound to be forgotten like so many dry leaves carried by the wind. But why should promises we make to ourselves year in and year out remain unfulfilled.

It's not as simple as a matter of exercise of will, nor are we lacking in desire. The problem goes deeper than that, dimpled in the very sinew of human nature. There is a pathetic, silent tale behind every broken resolution, and that story begins yearly with a fantasy of the future- an image of ourselves as we might be, but inexplicably disappear from it.

𝗬𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗱𝗮𝘆’𝘀 𝗨𝗻𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗕𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀

To understand why resolutions fail, we have to look at the invisible load that we carry. The baggage is not often physical, yet it is there. Every day that has brought us to this point - every disappointment, kept promise, failure-has been part of a silent conversation shaping the present. These unfinished chapters in our lives can torment us, often without our full awareness.

We make New Year's resolutions: lose weight, stop smoking, start a new hobby, or improve relationships. But at a deeper level, these desires lacerate the present with the past. We make resolutions because many past events have hurt us deeply. And perhaps it is because those may concern guilt-tinged feelings we’ve harbored through those months or years before relating to feeling like we did not quite measure up. The solution, no matter how great, is always a sick attempt at rewriting a history that cannot be undone.

We cannot outrun the past by sprinting into a mythically painted future. Still, that’s what we do every New Year. We wear resolutions like new clothing and hope that by slipping into something new, we will somehow shed the weight that has been building slowly in our souls.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝘆𝘁𝗵 𝗼𝗳 "𝗙𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗵 𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀"

The notion of a “new beginning” is seductive, promising a clean slate, a place where one can erase all mistakes. However, reality does not present itself as magic where the new year comes in with a tool known as an eraser. The challenges that one faces are not going to be erased just by the turn of a page in the calendar. They are brought forward, like echoes that refuse to fade.

And therein lies the sadness. Because this hope is what brings forth resolutions: that we can start over, reset, and become better. But humans do not easily shed their old skins. A past weight does not disappear merely with a well-meant goal; it only shifts and reshapes into newer forms of doubt and fear. We come to believe we are not enough as we are, and in our efforts to be more, we lose sight of the beauty in what already exists.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗘𝘅𝗵𝗮𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲

Change is tiring, even when we actually want it. New resolutions bring in enthusiasm for a couple of days and then suddenly the days seem endless and you feel the strain. It’s not the hard work that’s overwhelming- it’s the pressure we put on ourselves to be perfect. That pressure of making it “this time” bears you down.

Then, a weak moment or a missed goal becomes an avalanche of self-criticism. We forget that real change, does not happen overnight- it is incremental, often imperceptible. And to expect it overnight is to set ourselves up for failure. Back on the rocky road of disappointment, before we know it, the calendar turns once again, and we’ve come back to square one.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗼𝘅 𝗼𝗳 𝗦𝗲𝗹𝗳-𝗦𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲

Perhaps the saddest aspect of the New Year’s resolutions is how we sabotage them, usually without realizing it. By setting goals that are either too large or vague, we snatch ourselves up in a never-ending maze of unmet standards. We create unreasonably high standards thinking that good change for us can only take place at once. When we fail to fulfill those demands, we presume ourselves to be failures-not because we tried any hard to achieve it but because we set ourselves up for falling in the first place.

Wanting a change at the same time being scared of it, is the latent tragedy of so many failed resolutions. Given that the desire to change and improve is likely worldwide, so too is the dread that comes with it: the implications of real change. Regardless of whether we want it or not, we want to be different, but we are also deeply afraid of what might happen next.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗨𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗛𝗼𝗽𝗲

And yet, even in the midst of all this, there remains an undeniable spark. Despite the countless broken resolutions, the fact that we keep making them is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. Each resolution, no matter how fleeting, is an expression of hope—a belief that the future can be better, that we can be better. In that sense, each broken resolution is not a failure, but a sign that we are still trying.

Perhaps the true beauty of New Year’s resolutions lies not in their success, but in their persistence. We keep making them because, at the heart of it, we long for change, for growth, and for a world where we are kinder to ourselves. The resolutions may not always last, but the hope behind them does. And sometimes, that hope is enough to carry us through.

In the end, the broken promises we make each year are not a reflection of our inadequacies, but a mirror to the quiet yearning that resides in all of us: the longing for a life that feels full, meaningful, and true. And while we may stumble, fall, and break, the act of trying—of reaching toward something better—is a victory in itself. So, as the new year arrives once more, perhaps the most beautiful resolution we can make is to forgive ourselves for the ones we didn’t keep, and to keep hoping, quietly, for the change that is always within our reach.