Columnists
No to resolutions
2025 is here! I hope you’re all looking forward to all of the opportunities a new year can offer. If I’m going to make any kind of resolutions, they will be to embrace those opportunities and enjoy the ride!
I remember making a wee list of resolutions when I was a little kid. One of them was to learn how to skip Double Dutch and another was to get better marks than Mary Margaret LaCroix got. I did learn how to skip Double Dutch, but I’m not sure if I ever got better marks than Mary Margaret. To be perfectly honest, I also wanted to look like Mary Margaret. At the end of the school day she looked as if she’d just stepped out of a photoshoot. Her hair was always neat, her nails always clean and her uniform was unwrinkled. My Grade Two picture (the year MM was in my class) is testament to what can happen to a kid between the bus ride to school and the drop-off in the afternoon. By the time I was a teen, in the sixties, my resolutions changed. I didn’t care too much about skipping or about Mary Margaret.
As a teenager, my number one resolution was to lose weight. Now, just to be clear, I wasn’t overweight, but Mary Quant, Jean Shrimpton and Twiggy begged to differ. And as often as I made that resolution—and I made that resolution for yonks—I would inevitably be finished with dieting on time for Valentine’s Day. By the time I was about sixteen I had discovered fashion magazines, the Eaton’s and Simpson’s catalogues, clothing stores and had a part-time job to support my habit of buying clothing. I hadn’t made a foray into drinking, but I did enjoy food. I indulged in lots of greasy, semi-fast food with my friends. Of course, my perennial favourite resolution was never about making healthier food choices. I certainly didn’t have a clue about “healthy choices”. Did I mention I wasn’t overweight!? I wasn’t, but the pressure to be stick-thin was a thing. My resolution was just about losing weight. It didn’t help when our Grade Ten PhysEd teacher, who was obese, weighed everyone in the class and pronounced me, at one hundred and nine pounds, “fat”. I was mortified. Let’s just say, I’ve changed my tune since those days. I don’t make resolutions, especially about the shape I’m in. I’m completely happy with being fit and healthy.
So, is it difficult to face a new year without some kind of resolution? It sorta, kinda is. It’s a lot like muscle memory. Something inside me wants to make a commitment to myself. January 1st, 2025 was no different. I had that little voice in my head whispering “Lose twenty pounds”. This year I slapped that voice out of my head with a handful of Poppycock and a great big piece of peanut butter fudge. I spent more than a few moments, in the early hours of 2025, telling myself I’m just fine the way I am. I will love me, just the way I am. If there is a resolution to be made, it is to say “no” more often and to say “yes” more often. I’m not sure if that will make any sense to some of all y’all but it does to me. I’ll start saying “no” to things I don’t want to do. I don’t really want to volunteer anymore. But I will say “yes” to making donations to those charities I really believe in. I’ll say “no” to going out at night. Once I’ve helped with the dinner dishes and switched into my comfy clothes, aka pyjamas, I have no interest in heading out anywhere, anytime soon. I’ll say “yes” to a hike on the trail or a workout at the gym, but I’m likely to say “no” to doing either of those things with other people. I’ll say “yes” to having coffee with friends, but “no” to having a coffee with friends in a great, big chain shop. I want to pay attention to, and take advantage of, the opportunities to have a good time—but it’s my definition of a good time. And if you know me, and let’s face it you don’t, having a good time involves camping, gardening, hiking, travelling, painting, being with my family and my friends.
Did I resolve to do anything? I guess I did. I resolved to be good to myself.
Comments (0)