It was the Thursday before winter break, and I knew with certainty: I would not be finishing everything on my list. Not the emails, not the projects, not the arbitrary deadlines I’d set for myself. My hope—as it always is—had been to clear the decks completely before vacation, returning in January to a fresh slate.
When this reality hit, I felt my chest tighten. You won’t be able to fully relax, knowing everything you’ve got to come back to. The familiar voice of anxiety was rising.
This automatic thought is a familiar one. I’ve done enough work in my own therapy and ongoing self-reflection to recognize when perfectionism is running the show—and when I’m equating my worth with my productivity.
I took a break. I took a breath. I re-evaluated my list. And in doing so, I realized something surprising: there were two major projects I’d put on there that didn’t actually need to be. First, I’d set an arbitrary writing deadline for myself: that my quarterly provider-newsletter would be completed prior to the break. While it would be nice to not have to return to it in January, nothing truly terrible would happen if I wrote it and got it out a week or two later than usual. My livelihood doesn’t depend on it. No one would be hurt. It would just feel more comfortable. Second, there was a video of a research conference I’d purchased over a year ago to watch that I kept putting off finishing and had told myself I’d get finished before the break began. Each time I thought about it, I felt guilty. The conference was about research I used to conduct—my mentors had invested in training me, and I felt like I was letting them down by not staying current. But as I thought about spending the many hours required to finish it, I felt filled with dread. I’m just not interested in this topic anymore and it is no longer relevant to the work I do. I decided not to keep watching it.
As I made the decision to take one task off my list completely- and defer one task until later- I felt a sense of relief. Those tasks were on my list because of my shoulds—self-imposed rules about what I am supposed to do rooted in my past identity, not my present reality. They didn’t represent who I currently am or what my career actually needs from me now.
It can be hard to recognize when the things we’re doing are not because of who we are in the present and what we actually want to be doing. But when we feel a sense of dread or guilt- these are signals we’re acting out of obligation rather than in alignment with our true selves.
This got me thinking about New Year’s resolutions. So often we make resolutions in January out of a sense of who we think we should be or from who we were in the past. But sustainable change doesn’t come from obligation—it comes from alignment.
What if, instead, we paused before making our lists? What if we asked ourselves: Does this goal align with who I am now and who I want to become? Or is it based on who I think I should be, or who I used to be?
Real growth isn’t about doing more—it’s about doing what matters. It’s about honoring who we are now, not who we were five years ago or who we imagine we should be.
Before you make your resolutions this year, try this:
Notice your feelings: As you consider potential goals, ask yourself: Do I feel energized or filled with dread? Excitement or guilt?
Question the “shoulds”: Ask yourself: Who said I should do this? Is this actually important to me now, or is it leftover from an earlier version of myself?
Choose alignment over obligation: Select goals that reflect your current values and the person you’re genuinely becoming—not the person you think you’re supposed to be.
When we clear away the tasks driven by guilt and obligation, we make room for what truly matters. And that’s where meaningful change begins—in the space we create for who we’re becoming, not who we think we should have been.
This Monday morning, following my return from winter break, I’m carrying unfinished tasks into the new year. But I’m also carrying work that reflects who I am now, not who I used to be. That feels like progress.
Here’s to an aligned 2026!
