On Improving

Someone inspires this New Year's discussion. An Instagram reel with original audio that, although I saw on the first day of 2025, has stayed with me throughout the last 12 months. Created by a writer and artist, Kate Ireland. The poem called "Trying” — Kate vocalizes our attempts of trying new things and letting go of the old. It set the tone for my year, and it will continue to do so as I begin 2026. 

In a world where you are oversaturated with everyone else's life—seeing their growth, happiness, and success at an age earlier than your own—we are left feeling like we failed in a “self-improvement culture.”

And there is nothing wrong with that; self-improvement, aiming to grow 1% every day. But that 1% looks different for everyone.  Whether that's one percent closer to that career goal, one percent more honest, or more patient.

One percent kinder to others, and to yourself.

Improving day by day with impulse control, addictions, and rage. 

One percent every day, to trying.

Trying new workout routines, new skincare, recipes, and maybe even creatine. 

Trying to cut down on caffeine and get off the damn phone. 

We try magnesium before bed and watching our tone. 

We are all trying so hard to keep up with others, to show that we care. 

We’re always hitting our steps and prioritizing fresh air.

Trying.

But at each year's end, we’re feeling the same, not seeing our growth. 

Forgetting the wins because you were told,

“Things will change from here on forth.”

And you thought it was advice when they said, “Try a bit more.”

So, set aside what they say is a perfect year.

What became a habit? What did you ignore? 

Perhaps you saw development in that workout goal, or not at all. 

You may have made advancements with your patience after it being your biggest brawl. 

And ugh, maybe the sugar cut finally cemented. 

And the people in your life, well, you lost some you thought would be here forever.

But did you see how you met a few beautiful souls on the resulting endeavor? 

You’ve had significant wins, likely following a major loss. 

You went alone, and you decided to stop waiting for others. 

You faced your shame and embarrassment and tried to be a girl boss. 

You tried.


Yet, after all this, you still woke up today and began to convince yourself that, over the last year, you had not tried. 

As if effort only matters when the hand is perfect, when the cards fall neatly into place.

You may not have landed where you had originally planned, but you did land. Somewhere. And in 2026, you will do it again. You will continue to play the cards you are given. You will continue to move, to live, to breathe, to learn, to try.  

So, stop with the intentional self-harm, bring yourself out of that online comparison. Know when you’re unknowingly making a mental pros and cons list of everything that they have that you don’t.  Don't look back at this year through the costly lens of disappointment; scrolling through old photos, wondering what the hell you were doing — or why you aren't further along by now.

Growth will never perform well online; it is slow, troubling, personal, and deeply awkward. 

Find a new lens. To see what beautiful parts of you aged, what lessons you learned, to see who or what you let go of. What parts of you softened? Notice what boundaries you’re now confident enough to draw.

Don't forget the days you woke up choosing to move forward when you felt so tired and unsure.

Be proud of the improvements you’ve shown, embracing your weaknesses, being vulnerable, and strong. 

As we go into the new year, be loud in your person.

2025 was your year, 2026 is your year, 2027 will be your year.

Each year is your year.

You are becoming.  

Here’s to the New Year. 🥂





 

Juan Gris, Damier et cartes à jouer (Checkerboard and Playing Cards), 1915, oil on canvas, National Gallery of Australia, Canberra. Public domain image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons (original artwork in the public domain).

File:Juan Gris - Damier et cartes à jouer (Checkerboard and playing cards) - Google Art Project.jpg - Wikimedia Commons

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A Letter to December