New Year: Same Me
- jms685
- 19 minutes ago
- 6 min read
Trying to keep it real both online and off.
(Reposted from Jackie's Substack Willable.)
“First, we have to figure out what we are, what we stand for, and what people expect. Then we get a chance to be more like that.” ~ Seth Godin
‘Twas the season for fa-la-la-ing. Some Humbugging. And franticly hiding presents at my neighbor’s to shield my children’s curious eyes.
For me, the holidays have become a months-long hustle, now beginning nearly the time of our pumping carving. It’s purchasing and preparing feasts, children’s choirs, elementary orchestra concerts (that rival yelping cats … kidding, mostly …), caroling for the Church, family night at dance, elementary party/treat/dress-up/donations, charitable contributions, food pantry contests at school, angel trees, one-zillion parent emails, cookies, and Eggnog.
It’s buying. And buying more. Gifts for my kids, family, helpful neighbor, teachers, coaches, strangers, and ... (the correct of amount of alcohol to make it through said hustling time!)
It’s gatherings, avoiding invites, and if I’m lucky, quiet time to finish the Christmas wine and binge watch a show that “everyone is raving about” on one of the fifteen subscriptions we have, did have, or accidentally have because of yet another billion-dollar-merger.
Thanksgiving (Halloween?) to December 25th is filled with anticipation, duties, obligations, and swearing I can’t handle one more meal, loud living room, or various cheese. (Cue the narrator: “But somehow, she’s still consuming cheese.”) More and more comes faster and faster until I’m left sorting through wrapping paper, boxes to recycle, and nearly five thousand emails of sales, deals, exchanges, year-end wraps, new-year thoughts, gym deals, hilarious and endless videos satirizing all of life and the family gatherings, throw-back 90s music, the desire (pressure?) to read a gazillion books, and lists and lists of journal prompts to properly end the craziest (few) month(s) of another (probably hectic) year.
Then suddenly, the perfectly lined up children wearing red while smiling parents pretend they didn’t just threaten violence to get “one nice picture!” photos disappear on social media, and the New Year! New You!! posts flood the zone. It’s resolutions, goals, deals, weight loss, and so much skin care. It’s best of 20__ books, pop culture, politics, and photos. It’s recaps galore. And the year in pictures.
It's me frantically trying to make magic, ditching my routine, anticipating reviving my routine, cleaning up, surviving the months-long insanity, yet feeling like I’ve already missed out. It’s pretending that I didn’t just coast to 12-31-25 on fumes and immediately worrying I failed to properly execute 1-1-26.
The ball dropped, but did I seriously contemplate ushering in a new era of me?
Who was I last year? Who am I to be this year? What will get me to my target weight and how bad are menopause’s side effects? Will it be drought or fire? Job or loss? What is a reasonable life goal? How regimented should a “normal” person be?
If only I could read/watch/binge/purge/interact/comment on/form a parasocial relationship with/subscribe to/notate it, I’d do better. I’d be more.
This morning, I tried to “catch up” on emails. The vast amount of Substacks, news, blogs, and promotions I receive is staggering. Although I really do want to read all of it, to be as informed, enlightened, and culturally relevant as the next guy, it’s impossible.
Then the irony rolled in. There I sat, staring at my small screen to stay on top of the criticism of tech and advice to decrease my scrolling and news intake. It should be laughable, yet it’s confusing and anxiety producing. My endless Instagram feed rewards me with funny women holding wine and dumping their phone/laptop into the river. “This and [eating spaghetti, drinking champagne, hiking, sunning, rotting, bread] off the grid.” And then it shows me a video on lifting arm weights.
I’m to be everything and nothing. All in a day. Especially in the new year.
My God, sometimes I truly miss my old life, the one that was unexamined.
A chunk of my day is some stranger telling me how to get off my device so they can show me how to travel the world, be toned, get steps, drink so much water, create a vision board, listen to this, watch that, build a platform, go viral on TikTok, create brand awareness, use my iPhone camera better, write nonfiction in January (and fiction in November), grow my podcast, make Pinterest work for me, pack a carry-on with five outfits and cubes I should purchase on Amazon, and update my routine to dewy-makeup. Follow the new trend of creating your own curriculum. Don’t stop learning and set deadlines to do it! And for the love of God, subscribe to my Substack so journalism doesn’t die and AI doesn’t win!
The message to me is clear: Get online, so you can figure out how to live offline.
Maddening. Befuddling. Mildly exciting. Terribly overwhelming.
Through my earlier online hunting and pecking, I perused best upcoming book releases for 2026; added many to my TBR; scolded myself for putting my two new books down to get to my online tasks, decided I really should create a vision board (maybe include my children to do theirs? ha!), and remembered that I haven’t posted my goals in life-size posters in my office. I was further reminded to make one good choice each day for my health, and parroted it back while I ate an orange over the trash can “because I’m healthy!”; I finally got back to my favorite podcast and its predictions, wondered if I’m the type of person who predicts things in a new year; tried to squeeze in an audiobook that’s captivating “everyone;” read the one Substack I pay for; and noted I haven’t been listening to my one paid podcast. All while spending winter break finishing Only Murders and Shrinking, because I can’t do that during the regular season. I started writing this today, because it’s January 2, and I swore I’d write every day in January (BECAUSE I’M GROWING AND ACHIEVING!).
Through the copious amounts of content I consumed in the past few days about journaling (God, I love a good author-woman who teaches and inspires about journals and shares video of herself using a Sharpie and paper), I learned what’s mostly intuitive to me any month of year: Sit with your thoughts long enough, and you’ll see themes emerge.
On New Year’s Eve, I made time to sit for a few hours with a WTF notebook, my favorite purple pens (a few High Noons for good measure), and some easy listening music, to explore what I learned from 2025 and what I want in 2026.
I admit that I want 2026 to NOT be 2025. The insane politics and my health nearly did me in. But who wants to start with a negative?!
What I really want most in ’26, is to be me. The themes that came to me over and over in my journaling were: Stay in your own lane and on brand. Don’t react. Do you. Set goals, but don’t live by them. Have dreams, but don’t grind. Read the books, but no need to count or compare. Let important voices influence you if they speak to you. Stay with what works. Be consistent with your own routines, but they’ll vary. Be online if and when it’s fun, but remember what a time suck it can be. You don’t need to do hard 75s or to abstain. Fighting about politics is a road to nowhere. You can only write and publish so much.
Accept that I can’t possibly read everything I want to and that I don’t stay up late enough to watch all the shows I’d probably enjoy. Believe in what I do, no matter when and how I do it. Show up looking the way I want to. Don’t be swayed by a simple four-step makeup routine hack when I like my fifteen. I cannot subscribe to and pay for every amazing Substack. I cannot watch every skincare and #momlife video. I must pace myself with daily news and ignore 98% of the opinions and hot takes online.
Take some in. Let a lot out.
Just be me.
Like I was in 2025, warts and glory, and as I hope to be in 2026.
Creating your life in the places and ways you want to live (online or off) regardless of the infinite amount of advice and content is Willable. Pass it on.
Luv, jackie
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/ / The JM Stebbins blog is an autoimmune encephalitis blog from former lawyer and autoimmune encephalitis survivor, Jackie M. Stebbins.
Jackie M. Stebbins is also the author of Unwillable: A Journey to Reclaim my Brain, a book about autoimmune encephalitis, resilience, hope, and survival. //
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