I’ve never been a fan of New Year’s resolutions. I understand why people make them, but such lofty goals are set for things that are much harder to attain, such as drastically losing weight or changing an unfavorable habit. Now, yes, I know there are a vast number of success stories out there, but how many people do you know who have kept resolutions for more than a few weeks? Off the top of my head, I can’t name one.

I can remember thinking about making a resolution a New Year’s or two, but I have no direct recollection of ever creating one. I just don’t want to grab from the trite bank of resolutions, and I can’t think of much that I can honestly commit to changing.

Sure, I could resolve to stop picking my nails so much, and my friends and family can remind me to stop if they see me starting this habit, but I’m not going to get rid of that habit anytime soon. I pick my nails when I am nervous about being late to a meeting or event, I pick my nails when I am bored and I pick my nails because they are always there when I look down. I can’t remove myself from the issue. Only when I have a goal, such as being a bridesmaid in a wedding or a fancy dinner party, might I be able to refrain from picking for a week at most. But, give me a few days after the event, and I’m back to my old self with short nails.

I could commit to changing my habit of eating ice cream out of the container, forgetting to wear makeup every once-in-a-while, overusing the word “fabulous,” sleeping an extra hour instead of working out early in the morning, holding off on doing laundry until I’m down to my last pair of socks or underwear, tasting the raw cookie dough to out of the bowl or forgetting to put misplaced bobby pins back in their proper storage spot. I could commit to those, but I won’t. Those idiosyncrasies make me, well, me. And I’m not planning on changing anything about myself for a resolution.

Make a resolution if you deem it necessary, but don’t make false promises to yourself. It’s not fair to you.