Essay: I’m Skipping New Year’s Resolutions and Doing This Instead

After years of failing to keep up her January resolutions, this writer is taking a new, foolproof approach to self-improvement for 2025

Susan Moeller,

AARP

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Published December 27, 2024

a person walking through the door exiting a party

Jin Xia

If I had completed every New Year's resolution made in the last half century, I'd have lost 400 pounds, earned thousands more dollars, and done a million reps on the rowing machine. Also, sewn a quilt — or two.

Instead, by every February, I have a big "loser" tag on my forehead and feel like a failure.

So, time for a new strategy: This year, I resolve to do things I'm already doing — keep up the positive changes I've made over the last year. Clever, eh? I’m already several points ahead.

I've made some good ones that I think I can stick with — like knowing when to keep quiet (see the rest of my list below).

And resolutions are important — even at 70-something. Very few of us are complete, finished products who should rest on their laurels. It can be too easy to get stuck in the past — deciding we are who we are for the rest of our lives way too early. What if I live another 20 years? That's like not changing from age 20 to 40. Even at 40, I didn’t want to be my 20-year-old self (OK, the body, maybe, but even then there was joy in accepting my imperfections).

Plus, resolving to change is optimism at its finest. We don't resolve to do things that make us worse — only better. And no matter what my age, I can't let go of the concept that I'm a work in progress. After all, Grandma Moses didn't even start painting until she was in her 70s. And Yuichiro Miura climbed Mt. Everest at 80. My sights are set a little lower, but I welcome the chance to try something new or to be a better human. I like facing forward, although it's unlikely my dream of being a Rockette will ever come to fruition.

More importantly, I no longer make resolutions to meet the standards imposed by women’s magazines or influencers. (Lose 10 pounds! Train for a marathon! Be the best cook ever!) Instead, I only have to meet my own code of conduct or appearance. And, thankfully, my standards have changed from the days I flipped through Glamour magazine questioning if my hair was too short or my skirts too long.

So over the last year I've made some small changes, and I’m resolving to keep them up. It's a lighter load than waking up Jan. 1 with an overwhelming to-do list. Here are my seven.

Learn to whistle through my teeth.

I have not conquered this yet, despite the efforts of my big brother and a dozen YouTube videos. And I tried some other new things this year that weren’t a resounding success, including a drumming class. I loved the camaraderie and the early evening distraction and exploring a new skill, but sorta hated drumming. But no worries — I’m confident something else new will come along this year, and meantime I’ve got whistling to work on.

Have the faith to travel solo.

This year I traveled alone for the first time in years and discovered I could handle it — even when I stepped off a bus in a strange city at midnight in the rain without directions to my hotel. Patience and GPS got me through, along with the kindness of a hotel clerk who showed me where to get a sandwich at midnight. I’ve got a lot of experience to bolster my ingenuity; it’s time to use it.

Wear more lipstick.

A friend of mine arrives at 7 a.m. at the dog park with her make-up just so. Meanwhile, I look like I just rolled out of bed because … I just rolled out of bed. For the last few years, I hoarded my make-up for special occasions. It was liberating not to bother after 50 years of work outfits and office makeup.

But this fall I began to make more of an effort. It feels good to slap on some tinted moisturizer and mascara, and it signals to the world that I still care about myself. I even bought a Taylor Swift-worthy bright red lipstick. But no promises for the dog park. Hugh Jackman would have to be there for me to bother with make-up at 7 a.m.

Enough advice, already.

My children will be surprised to hear this, but I really have been making more of an effort to just listen and not offer a solution or make a comment unless asked. As a friend of mine says, "Oh," is an excellent response to so many things, depending on the tone and how you say it. When it comes to advice, less is more.

That goes double for travel.

And it’s time to stop assuming that just because someone is going to Paris that they want advice based on my trip to Paris, which was 50 years ago. That cute little cafe near the Palais Royale is probably no longer there. It would be lovely, however, if you asked about my trip to Paris.

More swimming, less streaming.

Dark afternoons in winter are my kryptonite, and at dusk it’s too easy to just turn on one more TV mystery and settle in for the night. Instead, I went through my credit cards and cut back on streaming services and a few other odds and ends, and found enough to join an indoor pool. Now two or three days a week, I head there at 5 p.m. rather than the couch. It feels good on my body and my brain, and, really, how many British detectives does one woman need to know?

Take. One. Thing. At. A. Time.

I almost got in a car crash trying to put on lip balm. It did not feel like a worthy hill to die on. So, I am trying to concentrate on the moment, whether I’m coming down the stairs, walking in the woods with the dog or driving the car. And I’ve slowed my steps, not because of physical infirmity but because hurrying is one quick step away from falling. I know this because I once broke my leg rushing down my porch stairs. I used to be so impatient when I walked my old dog as he plodded along, sniffing here, there and everywhere — he didn’t miss a leaf. But when I walked him, I also noticed more things around me — the birds, the neighbor’s garden, a pretty stone. Now, I’m the old dog — and it’s not so bad. Hey, is that a bluebird?

Of course, the real question is, will I be able to keep all this up? I give that a resounding … maybe. But resolutions help me keep my eyes on the road ahead, rather than anxiously checking the rearview mirror. And that whistle will come in handy when I'm traveling alone.

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Susan Moeller is a contributing writer who covers lifestyle, health, finance and human-interest topics. A former newspaper reporter and editor, she writes features and essays for Boston’s Globe Magazine and her local NPR station, among other outlets.