At the end of the year, I asked readers to anonymously share their fantastically failed new year’s resolutions. I did this partly because, as someone with a dismal track record in the resolution-keeping department (if my resolve to do or not do anything lasts through the first weekend of January, it’s a near miracle), I wanted to see just how alone I was.
But I also did it because I believe there’s something we can all gain from shouting our shortcomings all at once from the rooftops: power over them. So think of the 13 laughable lapses in self-betterment chronicled here less as confessions and more as a way of enthusiastically embracing that which makes us all human. Perhaps in sharing their epic blunders, botches and backfires in this very public but still very safe space, the readers who answered the call are ultimately helping us all start the new year with a clean slate and a spring in our collective step.
“My very first new year’s resolution was to become a better hugger. A good hug is a wonderful thing, and I’d always felt awkward about them. The year was 2020, and I think we all know how that resolution went.”
“No Häagen-Dazs for a year. Had a pint of chocolate chocolate chip at 10:30 a.m. on New Year’s Day. Never looked back.”
“I vowed to walk the hill I live on (it’s steep), 2 miles total down and back up. I did it. Once. So I’ve revised that resolution from every day to at least once this year. And I did it. Yay me. (I also vowed to give up underwire bras forever, and that one stuck! Thank you, pandemic clothing guidelines.)”
“One resolution was to absolutely lose 10 pounds by Feb. 29. There was no Feb. 29 that year.”
“I told myself this was the year to at least try to swim one mile in the San Francisco Bay. I resolved on Dec. 31 to make the life dream a reality by the end of the year. I bought some sweats (got them on now!) and endeavored the torture and embarrassment of buying a swimsuit. I drove down to Crissy Field, put one toe in the water, experienced self-revolution on a cellular level. And quit that idea forever. The sweats were a great score!”
“The last time I attempted a new year’s resolution was around a decade ago when I decided I would try to be nicer in online social media. Wasn’t two weeks into January before I was apologizing to the co-chief art critic of the New York Times for my not-kind words. Gave up on resolutions then and there. I’d like to add a note to that tale: I do have one enormously successful resolution in my life when I quit drinking on Jan. 1, 1991, and now have over three decades of being sober.”
“In 2018, I resolved to quit not smoking. Though the brainwashing of my generation was strong to anti-smoking, I nevertheless developed an attraction to it; a powerful and sensuous accoutrement for the Hollywood glam lifestyle. I wanted to be a smoker. I imagined myself smoking after sex (super sexy, right?!) or at a party wearing a fur stole and with a martini in the same hand. The cigarette was the perfect addition to any bold statement I had to make to my lover or in front of a crowd. I came clean about this desire (that I had been hiding for years), and as a gift, my boyfriend bought me a pack of Marlboros (which I had mistaken for a deck of cards). Alas, simply holding it in my hands made me nauseated, and I still haven’t smoked to this day.”
“My resolution was to experience my first-ever New Year’s Eve one-night stand. And I did … and wound up with crabs.”
“My new year’s resolution was embarrassingly to have a boyfriend by the end of the year. Still searching for that.” (Received Dec. 2.)
“I made the resolution to stop smoking weed. It had come to the point where I had smoked every day for five years. It wasn’t derailing my life, but I wanted to try to feel clearheaded again. After the New Year’s Eve festivities, my friends and I came to my place in Culver City, where we started smoking joints and taking edibles. Just trying to get as high as humanely possible before I had to start a sober year. One of my friends really got into weed that year and offered me his tincture — a THC concoction he used to put him to bed. He told me to take two drops before bed. Once everyone was gone, I took the two prescribed drops to help me sleep. Thirty minutes later I was still awake. Took another two. Thirty minutes went by. Took three more. Then I finally fell asleep. The next morning I woke up stoned out of my mind. I couldn’t even gather myself to leave the safety of my bed. Stayed there all day. Hiding under the covers. Finally sobered up by the evening. So much for starting the year off sober. I figured since I failed my resolution I was good to smoke weed for the rest of the year. There’s always next year.”
“My new year’s resolution was to start a vegetable garden and incorporate them into my meals. It didn’t happen.”
“My excitement and willing attempt at a failing relationship — just to realize it was a failed relationship.”
“I have failed so many new year’s resolutions that I’ve stopped making them. I figured that I should stop lying to myself.”
This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.
