December is that month of the year in which, with a glass of wine in one hand and a shortbread in the other, we get intense. We look to the horizon (of the table full of nougat) and reflect, as if we were living room philosophers, on how well or badly we have done in the last 12 months. We love to take stock, although we know that the account does not add up: a little drama for what went wrong, a lot of exaggeration about what went well and a couple of white lies to save the ego.
And, of course, after all this cheap introspection, the New Year's resolutions arrive. Ah, the great list of impossible dreams that we make with the same seriousness with which we swear that we are only going to have "one more drink". Whether "this year I will quit smoking for good", "I will go to the gym four times a week" or "I will get my act together with English". Lies, honey, pure lies. In January we feel unbeatable; by February we have returned to speaking closed Spanish and paying for the gym not to go. That's who we are.
Because let's face it: New Year's resolutions are an excuse to feel organized, even if we don't
have any idea what we are doing with our lives. We want to start the year clean and shiny, as if January 1st were a reset button. And it is not. It is simply the day after having eaten twelve choking grapes and having sung euphoric 80s songs that no one asked for.
However, there we are, year after year, writing lists. Why do we do it if we know that 90% of those promises will fall into oblivion faster than a viral on TikTok? Well, because we like to dream, honey. We love the idea that "this year" we are going to kill it. The change of calendar gives us hope, and even if it is an act of blatant self-deception, it has its charm.
So, if this year you are going to make resolutions, do them in style: "I am going to eat better, but cheese and wine are sacred." "I will play sports, but without giving up my three-hour nap." "I will read more, even if it's Netflix subtitles." The trick is not to change your life upside down, but to survive with some dignity and humor.
In short, reflect as much as you want, make your list and feel a little like the protagonist of your own movie. After all, when we get to December 2025, we will all have returned to where we started: looking back, laughing at our failures and promising, with all the faith in the world, that next year will be better.
Will it be? Who knows, but in the meantime, let's toast, because that's something we do wonderfully.
