January the 1st. Not necessarily the day we feel drenched in power or hope. Traditionally, we may wake up stinking of gin with some novelty glasses still propped upon our noses, the night before’s glittery tights sluggishly hanging around by our knees.
Some jolly folk will, of course, use the first day of the year to kick-start new dietary habits, or write up long lists of fresh, lofty goals, yet many of us feel slightly hopeless due to the thought of several more months of cold weather, dark early evenings and what feels like a heavy promise to never drink again.
Yet the first day of 2021 might hold more expectation than usual as we wave off 2020 with a strong desire for this new year to be happier, healthier and much less stressful.
I’ve never much loved New Year’s Eve. I don’t like parties and I hugely dislike staying up past 10pm – I’m happy with my granny tendencies these days – so the first day of the year is usually a bit dull and flat. This January I don’t want to laden myself with long lists of things I need to tick off before the year is out to prove that I’m ‘on course’ to a better life, a better me. Instead, I want to make myself some gentle promises. Promises that can naturally evolve from a kind and loving heart. Promises that will create more peace, more hope and, essentially, more power.
In this instance I am using the word power to describe motivation, energy and a willingness to align with what feels right within. This is less about loudly roaring and much more about calmly striding towards what feels good.
My first promise is to be kinder to myself. A cliché at times but, when we really dig deep into our worst memories, darkest times and biggest regrets, they’ll usually be seeped in a heavy self-loathing.
We are often our own worst enemy. We carry around an acerbic voice hissing within about how useless we are and how much better we could be. We berate ourselves with the insistence that we are lazy, foolish, perhaps even utterly useless, without looking at whether any of that is even true.
More recently, underneath that foul- mouthed inner voice I’ve noticed a need for control. I use control to keep away the bits of myself I don’t like. The gross bits, and we ALL have gross bits. The part of me that spoons peanut butter out of the jar before bed. The part of me that gossips mindlessly about people I know. The part of me that lies or takes the easy route. No one is exempt from the gross bits, yet I’ve wanted to banish those parts of me so have tried to do so with a very, very neat house and many very complicated lists that need to be ticked off to prove how neat and ordered I am. I’ve had the subconscious understanding that this sort of order might dissipate my gross bits, yet have never tried to embrace them. Embracing my gross bits is one of the kindest things I could do for myself.
Promise two is to do something I’ve historically been so bad at: setting boundaries. Telling people what I really need, want or don’t want has been near-impossible over the years, so I’ve ended up in imbalanced relationships and dynamics that fall apart as there was no initial clarity. I have gone above and beyond for people who have expected something from me, and then felt resentful and exhausted. I’ve assumed that if I did speak up I would be ostracised, mocked or rejected.
So promise number two means I need to start properly speaking my truth. I will start small by telling the next taxi driver who is blaring out TalkRadio that I would prefer silence rather than gritting my teeth for the whole journey home. I will flex the ‘no’ muscle by telling some that I cannot give them what they want as I am already overwhelmed with my family life and career. I will remember each time that the other person’s reaction or indeed assumptions of me are much less to do with me and much more to do with them. Speaking your truth often takes a little dose of courage, a bit of a risk and a huge chunk of not caring so much what others think of you once you’ve spoken.
My one mantra to sit alongside this promise derives from one of my favourite Louise Hay books, How To Heal Your Life. The mantra being: it is safe to make noise. Roar, whisper, laugh, shout, scream, just don’t stay silent when you have noise to make!
Those promises combined seem to be a beautiful little equation that might just equal hope and power, which is much more tantalising than reaching for a heady list of achievements we need to reach in the next 12 months. I reckon self-acceptance, loving those gross bits and speaking your truth is where it’s at for 2021.
‘Speak Your Truth: Connecting With Your Inner Truth And Learning To Find Your Voice’ by Fearne Cotton (£16.99, Orion Spring) is out 7 January.