It was Friday, January 1, 1999, our first New Year’s Day as a married couple. Unbeknownst to me, this day would set the protocol for all future New Year’s Days. It began with my husband bringing me a piece of paper and saying, “Let’s write down our New Year’s resolutions.”
It’s funny how traditions begin. Perhaps it is a lack of creativity, figuring it is easier to rinse and repeat. Other times, traditions happen because something greater is at play and we are not ready to see it yet. I married a list maker, a wonderful Type A guy driven to succeed, or perhaps laser-focused on how not to fail. He married a creative, one who thrives on spontaneity and maximum fun. I am a “go with the flow” girl. I am also a people pleaser. So, in those early years of marriage, I was happy to go along with my husband’s New Year’s Day wish-making tradition, until I wasn’t.
After birthing three daughters in two years, no twins, my clock was ticking, I had gained nearly 50 pounds. With my weight gain came added pressure to put “lose weight and get healthy” on my New Year’s list. With each passing year came additional pounds and increased doubt that a New Year’s resolution would correct my course. After a few years, I began to dread the resolution-making tradition, until a curious thing happened.
Our daughters began participating in the tradition. From their earliest crayon scrawls, my husband helped them write their wishes, goals, and resolutions on pieces of paper placed at their seats at the table. They thought this was fun. Yep, fun. It was anything but fun for me. Writing down my New Year’s resolutions had become like a mirror reflecting my past year’s failures.
My husband took great pride in watching our daughters’ eagerness to dream up new things they wanted to try, skills they hoped to improve, and even toys they wanted to buy. Meanwhile, I sat at the table dreading writing down the same goals I had carried for the past five years, with no progress. I was heavier and more exhausted, still searching for a different diet plan.
My husband encouraged me to add other things to my list, not just health goals. “Write down getting a new dining room table,” he said. “What about that trip to Europe you want to take? Write that down.” He nudged me to include things that would spark my creative interests, like learning to use a new crafting gadget. He gave me space to focus less on cultivating a smaller body while encouraging me to create a broader perspective on personal growth. While he may have hoped I would become healthier, he never made me feel less desirable in my larger body. That pivot, from a resolution list centered on being “better” by being “smaller” to being “larger in life” by becoming more interesting, changed my entire perspective.
As the years have passed, my husband has kept all of our New Year’s resolutions since 1999 in hand-labeled file folders. Just yesterday, he confessed that he still has his resolutions going back to 1987. Each of us has our own file with every New Year’s resolution we have ever made. We can look back and see what mattered to each of us at different stages of life. It is wonderful to see how many of those resolutions eventually came true, even if not in the year they were written.
I did get that new dining room table, but we still have not made it to Europe. I keep putting it on the list. I feel confident it will happen someday, and I love knowing that when it does, we will finally be able to mark it off. Our daughters are young women now, and they still make New Year’s resolutions. Who could have predicted that a simple tradition would create list makers, goal setters, and big dreamers? It seems the end created the means. Seeing goals make progress has led to more progress.
As for me, I lost the extra weight and became healthier. I lost 85 pounds and improved all of my health markers. In fact, I became a health coach, and now I help others set goals. Who would have thought that the girl who hated goal setting would become a goal-setting guru?
More importantly, I learned that goal setting should not feel like a “have to.” It should not feel pressured. It should feel exciting, like anything is possible. A goal that feels relevant is one you might actually invest energy in beyond the first few days of the new year. I also learned that progress feels powerful, and I can set the pace. When I saw that some items on my previous year’s list had come to fruition, I felt genuinely proud. That pride sparked curiosity about what another year might bring, a forward-looking perspective rather than dragging myself down with what I had not accomplished or become.
Finally, I learned that a leader helps others lean into their strengths and unique desires. My husband led our family through this beautiful time capsule of New Year’s resolutions. I am more of a daily-goals kind of girl, but New Year’s resolutions have helped me appreciate the power of bigger goals and daring dreams.
How Family Traditions Take Root
Some traditions are intentional, while others quietly form through repetition. What begins as a small ritual can evolve into something meaningful — a shared experience that strengthens family bonds and creates lasting memories over time.
Resolutions as a Record of Growth
Saving past goals offers a powerful perspective. Looking back reveals shifting priorities, personal growth, and dreams fulfilled — sometimes years after they
were first written down.
Reframing Goals for Lasting Motivation
When goals feel exciting instead of obligatory, they invite curiosity and commitment. Broadening goals beyond self-improvement allows space for creativity, joy, and meaningful progress.
Kimberly Falconer is married to David and mom to four daughters, one in heaven. She is a mixed media artist under the name Kennedi Benjamin and a national health coach for Weight Watchers. Based in Texas, she shares joy, color, and encouragement through art and life. Follow her at @LivingYourJoyLife.
