What if You’re Not the Problem: Rethinking “New Year, New You”

Every January, the same message arrives - sometimes loudly, sometimes quietly, sometimes disguised as “self-care.” 

This is the year you finally fix yourself. 

Fix your eating. 

Fix your body. 

Fix your discipline, your motivation, your willpower. 

Many of my clients, mostly women, come into my office and use the same language, “I can’t stop eating.” “All I do is think about food.” “What’s wrong with me?” 

And for many of those women, this January message doesn’t feel inspiring. It feels heavy. It reinforces this familiar belief: something is wrong with me. 

But what if that belief isn’t true? 

What if you’re not the problem?

The lie at the center of “New Year, New You”

The phrase “New Year, New You” rests on an assumption that who you are right now is insufficient. That your body, appetite, cravings, or eating patterns need correction. That if you could just try harder - peace would follow.

This framing doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It’s shaped by diet culture, a system that moralizes food and bodies by assigning value: good vs. bad, control vs. failure. 

Eating becomes a measure of worth rather than a basic human need.

So when January arrives, it makes sense that many women feel the urge to “start over.” Not because they’ve failed - but because they’ve been taught that rest, nourishment, and pleasure must be earned.

When a “problem” is actually a predictable response

Here’s a common example I see often.

Someone eats past fullness one evening or has foods they label as “bad.” The next morning, guilt kicks in. To compensate, they skip breakfast or try to “be good” and eat less.

By late morning or early afternoon, they’re really hungry. Not just mildly hungry - physiologically deprived - open all-the-cabinet-and-pantry-doors hungry. Lunch arrives, and they find themselves eating quickly, eating more than planned, or thinking obsessively about food. Later, the familiar thought appears: What is wrong with me?

But nothing is wrong.

Overeating or feeling preoccupied with food when you’re genuinely hungry is a normal, biological response to deprivation. Your body is doing exactly what it’s designed to do: protect you from not getting enough energy. The problem isn’t a lack of willpower - it’s the restriction that came before it.

When this pattern gets repeated, it can feel like proof that you “can’t be trusted around food.” In reality, it’s evidence that your body is responding appropriately to inconsistent nourishment.

Disordered eating is not a character flaw

If you’ve struggled with food - overeating, restriction, bingeing, rigid food rules - it’s easy to assume the issue is personal. That your hunger is “too much.” That you’re doing eating wrong.

But many behaviors labeled as disordered are actually adaptive responses shaped by diet culture and reinforced by years of moral messaging around food. They develop in environments where control is rewarded and hunger is ignored.

In other words: these patterns didn’t emerge because you’re broken. They emerged in response to repeated messaged that your bodily needs should be controlled rather than respected. 

A different intention for the New Year

Instead of asking, “How do I fix my eating this year?”
What if the intention became:

How can I support my body more consistently?

For many women, healing begins with something surprisingly unglamorous: regular meals. Eating enough. Not waiting until you’re desperate. Not punishing yourself the next day. This isn’t giving up - it’s creating stability so your body doesn’t have to shout to be heard.

If January brings up pressure or shame around food, consider this a reminder:

You don’t need a new body.
You don’t need more discipline.
You don’t need to fix who you are.

You may simply need to question the systems that taught you to ignore your hunger - and start responding to it with consistency instead of control.