I made it. I made it to another year.
I should be happy. I should feel fortunate, grateful, excited, motivated. That’s what you’re supposed to feel on January 1st, right? Fresh start. Clean slate. New possibilities.
But mostly I feel sad. And heavy. And worried.
I’m plagued by what-ifs. What if nothing changes? Nothing ever changes. It’s just another year—same old shit, different date.
I scroll through social media and it’s all productivity porn and impressive people doing exciting things, fulfilling their dreams, manifesting their best lives. And here I sit on the sofa, looking out my window, wondering if I actually believe anything can change.
Probably not.
There’s nowhere I need to be. Nothing I actually have to do. I don’t have a partner. I don’t have an important job. I don’t have much of anything.
So nothing will change.
But.
But.
I wanted it to be different this year. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to be brave. I wanted to be seen—even though it terrifies me—I want this year to be different.
Which means I’m going to have to get up.
I’m going to have to go shower.
I’m going to have to go out there and be seen.
I’m going to have to try.
Because the only way it changes is with me.
So I stand up. I feel the weight of my body. I walk to the bathroom. I turn on the water. And I step in.
Not because I believe it will work.
But because it’s the only thing I know how to do.
Why I’m Starting 2026 With This
Every January 1st, the internet explodes with vision boards and goal-setting workshops and “New Year, New You” manifestation garbage. And every year, my clients come in feeling like failures because they woke up on January 1st feeling… exactly the same as they did on December 31st.
Shocking, right?
This piece—”New Year’s Day: An Emotional X-Ray”—is what nobody posts on Instagram. It’s the truth about what most of us actually feel when the confetti settles and we’re still just… us. Sitting on the sofa. Wondering if anything will ever actually change.
I’m not interested in selling you hope. Hope is passive. Hope is “maybe the universe will fix this for me.” Hope is what keeps you on the sofa.
What I’m interested in is agency. The brutal, unglamorous work of getting up when you don’t believe it will matter. Showering when you don’t feel like it. Showing up when every fiber of your being says “what’s the point?”
Because here’s what 25 years as a therapist has taught me: Change doesn’t come from believing. It comes from doing.
You don’t have to feel motivated to get off the sofa. You don’t have to feel hopeful to turn on the shower. You don’t have to believe it will work to take the first step.
You just have to take it.
So if you’re sitting there right now, feeling heavy and sad and wondering what the fuck the point is—good. You’re being honest. And honesty is where real change actually starts.
Not with a vision board. With one foot on the floor.
Welcome to 2026. Let’s see what we can do with it.