The Quiet Pressure of “New Year Me”

January has a sound.

Not fireworks.
Not champagne.

More like…
the soft click
of everyone deciding
their life needs a makeover.

My phone gets heavier in January.
Not because it changes.

Because the message does.

Before-and-afters.
Fresh starts.
New routines that come with rules.

And somewhere in the middle of it,
I can feel the quiet pressure show up.

Not loud.
Not dramatic.

Just… persistent.

It slips into my thoughts
when I’m brushing my teeth,
when I’m driving,
when I’m standing in the kitchen
trying to remember what I came in there for.

It starts talking like this:

I should be better by now.
I should have it together already.

And I hate how convincing it sounds.

Because nursing doesn’t really do clean beginnings.

A calendar flips.
My body doesn’t.

A new week starts.
My brain still remembers last week.

So when January shows up with that glossy, polished energy,
it doesn’t inspire me.

It makes me feel behind
before I’ve even done anything.

And the truth is,
I don’t actually want a new personality.

And I couldn’t help but wonder…
what if the fresh start I want
isn’t a whole new life…
but one honest sentence at a time?

Last week I wrote about retiring the “I’m fine” version of me…
and I realized something:

That might be my “New Year Me.”

Not a new me.

Just… a more honest one.

A version of me
that doesn’t smooth everything down
so it fits in a sentence.

A version of me
that doesn’t treat exhaustion like a character flaw.

And I can’t do that
in one dramatic moment.
I already know that.

But I can make a quieter commitment.

When I catch myself saying “I’m fine” out of habit,
I want to pause long enough
to tell the truth—
even if it’s small,
even if it’s messy,
even if it’s only to myself.

Because January can keep its makeover.

What I want is something else:

to feel like I’m living my own life again,
not performing it.

P.S.
Did January ever make me feel like I was behind
before I even began?

Did I ever look at “New Year Me”
and quietly think,
I don’t have the energy to become a stranger?

Tell me in the comments — or email stories@pagingapparel.com
if I’d like to be featured (anonymously is totally fine).

— Still Standing in Crocs