Every January, it happens.
Even the most grounded founders and leaders, people who know better, suddenly feel this subtle itch:
- “I should set bigger goals.”
- “I should fix my habits.”
- “I should start something.”
- “I should be more disciplined.”
And if you don’t do it, there’s this quiet guilt. Like you’re wasting the moment.
Here’s what I want you to know:
That pressure isn’t coming from your ambition. It’s coming from the story the world tells about January.
January isn’t just a month. It’s a stage.
January is a social ceremony
For a few weeks, society collectively agrees on one thing:
“We’re all becoming someone new.”
And that sounds inspiring… until it turns into performance.
Because when everyone around you is talking about upgrades, habits, goals, and glow-ups, the nervous system does something automatic:
It compares. Your brain starts scanning – Am I behind? Am I wasting potential? Should I be doing more?
And suddenly, even if last year was full, even if you achieved a lot, it can feel like it wasn’t enough.
The clean page effect
There’s also something psychologically seductive about a new year.
It feels like a clean notebook.
A fresh start.
A chance to finally become the version of you that’s been waiting in the background.
So we do what high performers do best. We plan. We add. We design the perfect year.
But here’s the trap: when the page feels clean, we forget that we’re not.
We’re carrying a whole year inside us.
The wins you never celebrated properly.
The pressure you normalized.
The relationships that took hits.
The role you played to stay strong.
The parts of you that didn’t get a voice because you were focused on outcomes.
When that year hasn’t been digested, the mind reaches for the easiest relief:
A new list. Not because it’s wise. Because it’s comforting.
Goals become a way to outrun reflection
New goals can be a beautiful thing.
But sometimes, the rush to set goals is just a way to avoid one uncomfortable question:
“How did this year actually feel?”
Because that question isn’t strategic. It’s emotional. It asks you to tell the truth.
And truth comes with texture – Disappointment. Grief. Pride. Loneliness. Relief. Regret. Gratitude. Anger. Hope.
So instead, we skip the inner reflection and go straight to the outer plan.
We trade honesty for productivity. And then we call it “growth.”
