A Softer Way to Begin 2026 (or how New Year's resolutions aren’t always helpful)
Six to eight inches of snow is forecast to fall this afternoon and evening. It’s been snowing those big, plump movie flakes for the last few hours, and now it’s blowing around and creating white-out conditions. The world has come to a complete stop here in my little town. Stores closed early. Kids are at home, still on Christmas break. I knew the storm was coming, so yesterday I went grocery shopping and ran errands. I get to stay warm and cozy and watch the snow globe snow turn into a whiteout.
On this quiet afternoon between Christmas and New Year's, I’ve found myself working hard NOT to make New Year's Resolutions. And while the outside world feels quiet, my insides are anything but quiet.
One part of me is awake and busy, mentally flipping through ideas. This could be the year you finally get organized. Another part is tired in a bone-deep way, the kind of tired that doesn’t go away with sleep. Somewhere in the background, a familiar voice is warming up, ready to point out everything I hadn’t done well enough last year.
And then there were quieter parts too. Parts that didn’t have words yet. Parts that just felt… cautious.
This happens every January.
We call it “a fresh start,” but for many of us, the new year doesn’t arrive empty-handed. It arrives, dragging a whole cast of inner characters behind it. Hopeful ones. Anxious ones. Bossy ones. Tender ones who aren’t sure they want to be seen yet.
If you’ve ever made a New Year’s resolution and felt energized for a few days, maybe a week, before slowly slipping back into old patterns, there’s nothing wrong with you.
From an Internal Family Systems (IFS) perspective, most resolutions aren’t made by Self at all.
They’re made by parts.
Often, they’re made by anxious manager parts who believe that if they can just tighten the reins, everything will finally feel okay. Or perfectionist parts who think love and safety are earned through improvement. Or parts that are afraid that if nothing changes, the pain they’re protecting you from might catch up.
These parts aren’t villains. They’re not trying to sabotage you. They’re trying to help in the only ways they know how. But when they take the lead alone, change can feel harsh. Demanding. Like an ultimatum issued from inside your own chest.
I’ve noticed that when I ask myself the traditional New Year’s question, “What should I change about myself this year?” my body tightens almost immediately. My shoulders creep up. My breath shortens. Parts brace.
So I’ve been practicing a different starting place. Instead of asking what needs fixing, I ask:
Which parts of me want something different right now?
That question lands very differently.
When I slow down enough to listen, answers start to emerge. A part that’s tired of carrying too much responsibility. A part that misses creativity and play. A part that’s scared nothing will ever feel lighter unless something shifts.
I don’t need to silence these parts. I don’t need to obey them either.
From Self, I can get curious.
Sometimes that curiosity looks very simple. A pause before jumping into planning. A hand on my chest. A quiet check-in that sounds like, I see you. I’m listening.
When Self is present, goals stop sounding like threats. They start to feel more like invitations. Not orders barked across the room, but questions gently placed on the table.
What would support these parts in this system?
What would bring relief, not just productivity?
What pace actually makes sense for the whole of me?
This approach doesn’t promise a dramatic overnight transformation. It’s slower than that. Softer. More honest. Sustainable.
I’ve come to believe that this year doesn’t need a “new me.” It doesn’t need a total overhaul or a more disciplined version of myself.
It might just need more of ME. More curiosity. More compassion. More room for all the parts that show up when the calendar turns, and the pressure creeps in.
So if the new year feels heavy, or loud, or complicated, you’re not behind. You’re not doing it wrong. You’re just human. And you’re full of parts.
May this year begin not with demands, but with listening.
May Self be invited to the head of the table.
And may every part of you know there’s room here, exactly as you are.
A Gentle IFS Parts Check-In
(A small pause you can take anytime)
As you move through this moment, you might notice some of these parts nearby. There’s nothing you need to fix or figure out. Just notice what feels familiar.
🧭 Manager Parts
The Fresh Start Part
Loves clean slates and new beginnings.
What does this part believe is possible right now?The Productivity Manager
Focused on goals, systems, and staying on track.
What is this part afraid might happen if things stay as they are?The Responsible Adult Part
Carries finances, health, and long-term concerns.
How long has this part been holding responsibility without rest?The Inner Critic
Uses pressure and comparison as motivation.
What does this part think it’s protecting you from?
🔥 Firefighter Parts
The Avoid-Disappointment Protector
Keeps expectations low to prevent hurt.
What disappointment is this part trying to help you avoid?The “Why Bother?” Part
Remembers past attempts that didn’t work out.
What happened the last time this part let itself hope?The Comparison Alarm
Scans others’ progress and creates urgency.
What does this part believe you’re running out of time for?
💛 Tender / Exiled Parts
The Exhausted Part
Still carrying what the last season required.
What does this part need before anything new begins?The Hopeful Dreamer
Holds visions of joy, creativity, and meaning.
What would this part love to experience, even in a very small way?The Part That Misses Who You Used to Be
Holds nostalgia, grief, and memory.
What does this part want you to remember about yourself?
You don’t have to answer every question.
Notice in your body if a part says, “You see me!”
Just this tiny moment can help our parts feel more connected.