You’re A Liar.
You’re a liar.
Well, if you’re smart you are.
Because here comes the new year, followed by your resolution, followed by your failure to keep it, which sets off your annual self loathing spiral, which trips your annual career/health/relationship sabotage wire, which sends you careening toward your annual convincing-of-yourself that you will inevitably ruin everything you attempt, and ultimately die alone.
Well, I might be able to help.
Try this. The minute you make that resolution, lie to yourself.
(Actually, before you make that resolution to commence on January 1, start today, or maybe a couple weeks into 2019. Because starting a resolution on the first day of the new year is A. Basic. B. Cliche and C. The same thing you do every year and “nothing changes if nothing changes” so start with THAT change, so you can actually change.)
Okay. Quick example about the lying thing.
Years ago I decided to start running. And I HATED running. But I was a broke, single mom whose thighs were starting to resemble her Polish mother’s and running was free. So, I arranged to drop my daughter at before-school care three days a week so I could whip my growing gams into shape by hoofing it around a local lake. I started sometime in February, not January 1 (because I’m cool like that) and many of those early mornings were brutally cold. It was everything I could do to drag my butt out of bed on my designated running days, so I started gently by using quick little B.S. pep talks. “Just get up and go to the bathroom, Lynda. That’s all. And if you don’t feel like running, you don’t have to.” Of course, once I was up, coffee started calling. “Just make yourself some coffee, Lynda, and if you don’t feel like getting your running stuff on, you don’t have to.” Of course, once I started sipping coffee, I felt inspired, and my daughter would usually emerge about then, so it was time to start the day. “Just get her ready for school, Lynda, and if you don’t feel like dropping her early, you don’t have to.” Gratefully, those early drops were full of fun activities so she looked forward to them, which was an incentive for me to get out the door, and continue on to the lake. “Just get to the lake, Lynda, and if you don’t feel like getting out of the car, you don’t have to.” Of course, once I got to the lake I would run, which always sucked physically, but emotionally, I would wind up feeling pretty badass. I did this every other day for years, and I can’t recall one time I didn’t get out of the car and run all the way around that lake. I knew what my evil plan was the whole time, but I lied straight to my face…and it worked! I didn’t know this then but there’s a science to how your subconscious responds to what you tell yourself (which I don’t feel like Googling, so you’ll have to trust me. I only lie to myself).
Worth a shot, right?
If you want to plow into a pile of cookies at 10 p.m. just tell yourself to get ready for bed, and if you still want the cookies, you’ll consider it.
If you feel too tired to organize your day the night before, just tell yourself you’ll schedule your morning, and see if you want to keep going.
If you’re tempted to quit your new 6 am yoga class, do it. I don’t need you taking my parking space and throwing your matt down with a THWAK! because you don’t understand yoga is for shutting up and leaving me alone. (Sorry. Quick PSA for myself. Love you…but love yoga more.)
If you want to stay in and binge-watch G.L.O.W. instead of going to your friend’s dinner party where you might meet someone awesome, just tell yourself you’ll listen to fun music for ten minutes, and if you still feel cavey, you can stay in.
Go ahead. Lie. It might be the best way to keep your promises.
Thanks for subscribing to Wayword Girl. Stories from a screwup who made it work. It’s my mission to entertain, inspire, and heal you into believing in the shiny ass miracle you are. Peace.
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