Choose YOU

As December approaches, I feel the familiar surge of anxiety - the season of presents to buy, parties to plan, and people to please. Another year fades into the horizon, and I’m left evaluating what I’ve achieved, endured, or failed to complete.

Achievement and success are so deeply wired into us that our worth often depends on visible proof of progress. It’s no wonder that the turn of the year - that annual audit of our lives - brings both hope and quiet panic.

But what is it about a new year that makes us desperate to reinvent ourselves?

The online world is awash with advice on how to become your best self. New diets, new wardrobes, new workout plans - as if a fresh version of ourselves is waiting to be unlocked through consumption. Each December, we promise that the next year will be different. If only I were a little more this, a little less that, perhaps then I’d be happier, smarter, more successful.

We construct resolutions like Jenga towers, stacking self-improvement upon self-critique and then wonder why the whole thing feels so shaky.

This year, I’m doing it differently.

Yes, I could learn to cook elaborate plant-based meals or lift heavier weights. But will that make me more whole? Probably not. I could master cacao from carob, but I suspect my worth has little to do with superfoods.

What if the real act of rebellion is to accept the imperfect, contradictory, beautifully unfinished self we already are?

I’ll let you in on a secret: no one’s perfect. The relentless pursuit of it only alienates us further from our real selves - the ones capable of honesty, softness, and self-forgiveness.

Whenever I feel the familiar pull to fix or improve myself, I return to this reminder:

“In a society that profits from your self-doubt, liking yourself is a rebellious act.”

So this year, instead of building a new me, I’ll be choosing the one I already am - again and again.