By Jason Kirby PN1-SSRS, Living Proof Deep Health: The Heaviest Weight Is Doubt

Every year, right around midnight on December 31st, something predictable happens.

We decide we’re going to become a different person.

Not gradually.
Not thoughtfully.
Just… suddenly.

We draw a hard line in the sand and say, “This is the year I fix everything.”

I will…

Eat better.
Lose weight.
Get disciplined.
Stop procrastinating.
Become motivated.
Become confident.
Become “better.”

And then—weeks later, sometimes days (sometimes hours)—the whole thing quietly falls apart.

Not because we’re lazy.
Not because we lack discipline.
And not because we “didn’t want it badly enough.”

Most New Year’s resolutions fail long before the first workout, the first meal prep, or the first early morning alarm ever happens.

They fail at the starting point.

Most Resolutions Are Knee-Jerk Reactions, Not Plans

A lot of resolutions are born from emotion, not intention.

We feel uncomfortable.
We feel disappointed.

We feel embarrassed.
We feel frustrated looking back at the year.
We feel pressure to “do something.”

So we react.

We don’t sit down and ask:

• What actually got in my way this year?
• What systems failed me—not just my effort?
• What’s realistic inside my current life?

Instead, we reach for the most extreme version of change we can imagine because it feels decisive.

“I’m cutting carbs.”
“I’m going to the gym six days a week.”
“I’m quitting sugar forever.”
“I’m waking up at 5 a.m., no excuses.”

It feels powerful in the moment.
It feels like control.
It feels like redemption.

But it isn’t a plan—it’s a reaction.

And reactions don’t hold up when life shows up the same way it always does.

Many Resolutions Start From Self-Hate, Not Self-Respect

This part is uncomfortable, but it matters.

A lot of resolutions don’t come from a place of wanting to care for ourselves better.

They come from a place of wanting to punish ourselves into change.

We don’t say it out loud, but the internal dialogue often sounds like:

• “I can’t believe I let myself get like this.”
• “I need to get my act together.”
• “I’m ashamed of where I’m at.”
• “I have to fix this.”

When change is driven by self-criticism, the goal becomes escape—not growth.

And escape goals don’t last.

Because the moment motivation fades—or progress stalls—we default right back to the same voice that started the resolution in the first place:
“See? This is why you can’t stick to anything.”

That voice doesn’t build consistency.
It builds burnout.

The Real Reason Resolutions Don’t Stick

Most resolutions fail because they rely on outcomes, not systems.

“I want to lose 30 pounds.”
“I want to get in shape.”
“I want to be healthier.”

Those aren’t bad goals—but they’re incomplete.

They don’t tell you:

• What you’ll do when motivation drops
• How you’ll handle stress, poor sleep, or chaos
• What habits will actually support that outcome
• How this fits into your real, imperfect life

Without systems, goals become pressure.
Without systems, consistency becomes optional.
Without systems, results depend entirely on how you feel that day.

And feelings are unreliable.

The Weight We Don’t Talk About

There’s a kind of weight that doesn’t show up on a scale.

It’s the weight of doubt—doubt that this time could be different, doubt that you won’t quit again, doubt that change can be calm instead of extreme.

When that doubt runs the show, resolutions turn into pressure, pressure turns into burnout, and burnout looks a lot like “failure.”

Real change starts when you stop trying to prove something and start creating systems that support you—even on your worst days.

Connecting systems to Deep Health pillars without listing them

Support doesn’t mean doing more.

It often means:

• Eating in a way that stabilizes energy instead of swinging it
• Sleeping enough to make good decisions possible
• Managing stress before it manages you
• Allowing recovery to be part of progress, not a reward for it

When those pieces are missing, even the best intentions feel heavy.
When they’re in place, change stops feeling like something you must force.

A Different Way to Enter the New Year

Instead of asking,
“What do I want to change about myself?”

Try asking:

• What made change hard for me this year?
• What support did I not have?
• What systems do I need—not more motivation?
• What would progress look like if I didn’t hate myself into it?

The goal isn’t to become perfect.
The goal is to become consistent.

And consistency doesn’t come from pressure or self-punishment.
It comes from self-trust—the kind that’s built slowly, through small decisions that don’t feel dramatic but add up over time.

The truth is, you don’t enter the New Year empty-handed.
You arrive carrying everything from the year before: stress you never fully released, habits shaped by exhaustion, expectations you didn’t choose, and doubts that learned how to sound like your own voice.

No resolution will erase that weight overnight.

But you can decide what you keep carrying forward—and what you finally set down.

Not all at once.
Not perfectly.
Just intentionally.

Because change doesn’t need a fresh calendar or a flawless plan.
It needs honesty, patience, and systems that can hold you up when motivation fades.

And if this year begins differently for you—not with a declaration, but with a pause—that might not mean you’re falling behind.

It might mean you’re finally starting from the right place.

– Living Proof: The Heaviest Weight Is Doubt

 Jason Kirby PN1-SSRS, Living Proof Deep Health: The Heaviest Weight Is Doubt

After losing over 130 pounds and rebuilding his life physically, emotionally, and mentally, Jason created Living Proof Deep Health to help others do the same. His coaching focuses on deep health: nutrition, habits, mindset, stress, sleep, recovery, confidence, and the emotional layers most programs ignore.

Reflection Questions

1.  When I think about starting over in the New Year, what emotions show up first—hope, pressure, fear, frustration, or something else?

What might those emotions be trying to protect me from?

2.  What “weight” am I most eager to lose right now—and is it truly physical, or something emotional, mental, or relational?

How long have I been carrying it?

3.  In what ways have my past attempts at change been reactions rather than thoughtful plans?

What did I skip over in the rush to begin?

4.  Where have my goals been driven more by self-criticism than self-care?

How has that approach affected my consistency over time?

5.  What outcomes do I keep chasing without building systems to support them?

What would it look like to shift my focus from results to daily practices?

6.  How do stress, poor sleep, or lack of recovery show up in my eating, movement, or motivation?

What patterns do I notice when I’m overwhelmed or exhausted?

7.  When motivation fades—as it always does—what usually happens next?

What kind of support or structure might help me continue anyway?

8.  What beliefs or doubts resurface every time I try to change?

Where did those beliefs come from, and are they still true?

9.  In what areas of my life am I asking too much of willpower and not enough of my environment or routines?

What could I simplify?

10.  What would progress look like if I measured it by consistency instead of intensity?

How might that change the way I define “success”?

11.  How have relationships, responsibilities, or expectations from others added to the weight I carry?

What boundaries or adjustments might help lighten that load?

12.  If I approached this year from a place of self-trust instead of self-punishment, what is one small, realistic action I could take this week?

How would I know it’s supporting me rather than draining me?

Disclaimer: Educational content only. Not medical or mental health advice. Not a licensed physician or therapist. Consult qualified professionals for personalized care.