It Doesn't Have to Be Old You or New You

🚙 Put everybody in the car and drive

We’re going to need more steering wheels.

I get so conflicted about the new year.

I love the sense of optimism and the feeling of possibility. I even like the hard work that may not show results until spring. I kind of dig toiling at change before seeing any hint of progress or renewal.

There’s something special and hardy and worthy about this time.

But I also dislike the feeling that I should change. And I hate the “New Year/New You!” marketing push — like the old you wasn’t good enough. Like you should throw her away. Like she’s a loser.

But she’s not.

Old You Is Pretty Kickass

Old You tried so hard last year, even in turmoil, even in this past, weird “in-between” year when we weren’t really in a pandemic but we weren’t really free of the coronavirus, and we weren’t really in a recession but it was starting to feel like one. (Who the heck knows how to act in these times? I sure don’t.)

And Old You is a survivor. Breathing is proof.

Still, there are a few things you’d like her to do better.

Yet “New Year, Old You” Sounds Depressing

Who the heck wants that? It sounds like you’re not even trying, like you gave up, like the future is just more Cheese-its and White Lotus and a slide further down the hill. (I’m not knocking either of those — I love Cheese-its and White Lotus!)

And New Year/Old You isn’t going to work out three hours a day or cut calories to 1200 or give that last relationship one more try. Old You knows that shit didn’t work before and it’s not going to work now.

Old You knows that change is a hard mofo, earned in small measures.

But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth trying to change, to improve, to optimize. Because small measures do add up, especially over the long haul.

Pulling All the Yous Together

Here’s the important part: Old You knows what works for change — and she’s willing to work hard again this year, even if that means everything hurts and you don’t reach all your goals and you end up sometimes on the couch with the Cheese-its and White Lotus. (That happens, too. Just get back up off the couch and into the game.)

So bring her along on the ride. She has some of the skills you need.

Old You, New You, Bitch-Ass You — welcome them all this year. Load up that Car of You.

It’s the best chance you have at really effecting change. Get in. Pick the playlist. Drive.