(But I’m Trying Anyway) 🤯
I’ll just come out and say it: Goal setting and I? We have a hostile relationship. I’ve always felt uncomfortable with it, mostly because every time I try, I end up wandering through this impossible mountain range of goals waving a white flag of surrender.
This year, I’m trying something different. I have these ambitious goals—the kind that are amazing and terrifying at the same time. But I realized my biggest problem wasn’t the goals themselves; it was the balance (or lack of balance). My past lists were all intellectual hustle with zero emotional backup.
So, I created this new, slightly unhinged rule: I have to hit four kinds of goals this year. It’s supposed to make things feel more “feasible.” I’m breaking them into categories:
Intellectual: The stuff that makes my brain hurt (in a good way?).
Passionate: The stuff that makes me forget to check my phone.
Emotional: The stuff that forces me to deal with my own drama.
Spiritual: The stuff that gives everything a point.
My Very Confusing, Double-Up List
Then I wrote out my actual list of things to do, and honestly, it’s already a mess.
I’m to write the first draft of my book.
I’m going to build my brand.
I’m going to help other people.
I’m going to take care of myself.
I’m going to take care of myself.
Did I accidentally copy-paste “I’m going to take care of myself” on there twice? Nope.
Why the Double Vision on Self-Care?
Because that’s the loophole I use to fail. I don’t listen to my body, which usually yells for a nap but I tell it to drink more coffee. I ignore the need for a walk to clear my head until I’m full-on having an existential crisis. I don’t “pace out my energy”; I just slam the accelerator until the engine catches fire.
By listing it twice, I’m basically trying to force myself to realize it’s actually two separate jobs:
Job 1 (Preventative): The boring, daily maintenance stuff. Like actually setting a bedtime or eating vegetables when I don’t feel like it.
Job 2 (Responsive): The emergency panic button. What I must do when I feel the familiar smoke of burnout starting to rise.
If I don’t treat “Take Care of Myself” as the Emotional Goal that fuels everything else, the other three—the book, the brand, the helping people—will just collapse into dust. I know this because they always have.
The Realistic (And Slightly Terrifying) Outlook
Am I suddenly going to transform into a goal-hitting machine now that I’ve figured out this “balance” thing?Probably not. I mean, it would be amazing if I steamrolled right over these goals, but let’s be real. I’m still me. Am I still going to burn myself out trying to hit my own unrealistic standards? Probably. I’ve got decades of training in that.
But here’s the tiny, fragile shift: I can acknowledge this reality before I start. I’m imperfect. I’m going to get sick. I’m going to miss a few markers. And for the first time, I’m trying to treat that messiness with love and grace instead of internal fury.
So, the plan is set. The list is repetitive, and I’m not bracing for burnout. Maybe—just maybe—this confused, balanced approach is exactly what I need to finally hit my goals. I’m teaching myself to build differently.