Photo of Nine Perfect Strangers, from IMDB
There’s something about the start of this year, in particular, that I’ve been dreading. I haven’t been able to put my finger on it until just a few days ago, when the internet erupted into a collective vision board on January 1st. Lists of “ins and outs” and resolutions for the new year have taken over my social media feeds. It causes me to reflect on the ways I’ve failed and fallen short in 2023: my days are less structured than ever; I’ve lost any semblance of routine; my workouts are less consistent; I struggle to pull myself out of bed as the temperature regularly dips below 30. The temptation of aspirational resolutions loom large. What do I need to do to be a better person in 2024? How much money should I set aside for such a transformation (I imagine it’ll be expensive)?! Historically, the new year is an opportunity to correct my personal and moral failings from the previous year. These goals, or “intentions”, are predicated on the fact that there’s something wrong with me and the way I’ve been living.
It’s interesting being in a field that’s often equated with self-improvement. You go to counseling to get better, right? Whether you’re trying to save your marriage, lift yourself out of depression, or get your ex to realize how messed up he is, the idea is that therapy will ~fix it (or him)~. Or, if it’s not therapy, it’s clothes, money, a new diet, gym memberships, a new house, a new city, a new skincare routine (anything you can buy, essentially), marketed as the magic pill that will change everything.
It’s really getting me down. I want to be better and do better. But, I don’t know what it means to “be your best self” outside of what the influencers are telling me. And I know I don’t want to never be satisfied with who I am and what my life looks like.
When I lived in Austin, I remember hearing about a new gym owned by a famous guy in the health and wellness industry who cheated on his fiancé and then started a podcast to talk about the benefits of polyamory (that he’s since abandoned after his fiancé decided to take advantage of said polyamory, and he just couldn’t handle it). He’s currently fundraising for RFK Jr. on his website, which is a side note, but arguably relevant. Anyway, this man declares himself the founder of “Total Human Optimization”, and has built his career on the idea that humans, as a species, are failing. So he’s created a gym, a podcast, supplements, a psychedelic festival, (and more!) for us to spend our money on so we can…optimize ourselves, I guess? As you can imagine, he’s been wildly successful.
And it’s not just the health-crazed Austin market that’s made him successful. As a society, we’re enamored with self-improvement. But more than that, we’re enamored with capitalism. So we spend and we spend and we make resolution after resolution vowing to fix ourselves, and most years we fall short, and all years we’ve spent a boatload of money.
What are we optimizing ourselves for? Why are we always looking for the most efficient way to be human? What does it do to us to never be satisfied?
The self-improvement industry and capitalism share one thing in common: they both promise that internal changes come from external sources. I might not know all of life’s answers, but I do know that external fixes can’t mend internal struggles. That’s not to say that things like money (and everything it brings) don’t make life immensely easier. But remember: rich people still get depressed.
So much of our lives, at this point, are influenced by external sources. I mean, we spend most of our time in front of a screen, usually consuming information from someone else telling us the best way to be (a mother, a girlfriend, a woman, a human). And somewhere in that mess we’ve decided that instead of learning to listen to our own intuition and experiences, to do our own exploring, simply aren’t as important as buying an Equinox membership and taking a course on how to microdose.
As I look into 2024, I know there are ways I want to improve.
For example, I want (need?) better sleep hygiene. I’d like to return to a consistent workout routine. I have a plethora of goals for my business. I have ways I want to improve in my relationship and friendships. I want to show up for my family more. And like everyone else and their mother, I need to reduce my screen time or my mental health might officially implode.
But I am so over (and can’t afford) to commodify my self-improvement, and I refuse to become so obsessed with being better that I let it take me out of the present. I won’t be optimized. I just want to try to do each thing 1% better than I did in 2023. And one thing’s for sure: I’m listening to my own voice to lead me in the right direction: to tell me when something’s not right, to tell me where to make a change, and to celebrate my wins. I don’t need an influencer to tell me how to be me. I’m excited to embrace 2024 as who I am, right now. And I’m excited to see how I’ve evolved by 1% from the inside out come 2025.
Disclaimer: I might be making vision boards for 2024, but that’s mostly because it’s fun and cute, okay?