"I think I'm done". - Bringing people into 2026.

A year-end inventory around who I’m keeping, who I’m releasing, and why clarity is a kind form of courage.

"Well that's not very "Happy New Year of you"... No, perhaps not. But we are only a fortnight from 2026, and our New Years resolutions - the biggest, most bombastic, annual re-set tale we tell oursleves. People talk a lot about New Year, New Me - but the truth is, these delusional decisions don't generally fall into the silo of "real change". Resolutions are more-than-a-bit designed for show. Like shaking hands with a better version of ourselves and then saying goodbye a month later.

January was named after the Roman God Janus, whose images depicted two faces - looking forwards to new beginnings as well as looking back in refection and resolution. Devout citizens would offer small sacrifices to Janus, and make promises for the year ahead.

In the Middle-ages, where customs and behavious just got weird, noble knights would re-affirm oaths of allegiance by placing their hands on a cooked Peacock and remain loyal to their liege for another calendar year. A cooked Peacock..now those were the days.

The roots of resolutions grow from taking personal inventory. Not surprising then, that we make this part of the exit from festive excess and a pseudo-revulsion of self, from our over-eating, over-spending and over-boozing. Like it or not, 'tis the season of stock taking. Of clearing our collective throats and allowing the inner voice some airtime. This year, I am deciding to extend that naughty-but-nice checklist to also include people.

It might be a time when we finally decide to stop writing generous stories about those who have offered us nothing all year but silence, excuses, or absence. A time to let go of the "friends" who expect your understanding but never offer theirs. They who love the idea of you, but who shy away from the work of knowing you. To be rid of the people who want the benefits of your growth, but not the responsibility of walking beside you.

Most of us were raised to believe that letting go of people is a failure. That loyalty is a virtue even when it costs us too much. That being “the bigger person” means staying longer than our soul can afford. Letting go gently is not cruelty - it's clarity, and clarity is kind. Clarity is the beginning of courage. So as I approach this years end, this turning of the page, this hands-on-the-peacock moment - where I swear an oath of allegiance to myself - perhaps the boldest act of clarity I can make, is to release that which no longer honours me.

And that’s when the quiet, steady truth rises. Not in bitterness. Not in anger. Not in resignation. But in self-respect. Because “I think I'm done” is not the language of defeat, nor is it an outburst of anger or dismay. It’s the lexicon of boundaries. It's the rumble, the reckoning and the revolution. My "New Years Revolution" - time to stop pretending that other peoples lack of effort or their unwillingness to return the energy they receive, is in any way my responsibility.

I can feel a bit of sap rising here, and I must temper it. This is not a message rooted in acute displeasure or disappointment, but in healthy, positive change. I can still hold much gratitude for the part someone played in my story, without feeling obligated to keep them there. I can love people, and still not choose to have them continue the journey with me.

In her book "Tiny Beautiful Things", Cheryl Strayed wrote "Some people are meant to be in your life, but not your whole life". And that is the rub I am talking about. This is my process mantra...

1. I accept that some relationships are temporary, and I am grateful for what they gave me

2. There are people I love very much, with whom I cannot walk into the next chapter.

3. Not everyone is meant to be in my whole story.

4. Some people are pages, some are chapters, some are just paragraphs. And that is OK.

5. If I try to "level up", my old life may well call me on my cell phone. I don't have to answer...

So... the New Year is not about who I am going to become in the next twelve months. It's about who I decide to stop being today. So here, in the softly glow of mid-December, let's ask oursleves... "Who am I just done carying, and who do I choose to bring with me?".. Or is it "Whom?"... whatever... not the point. The point is, 2026 will not change us. We change us...

...and sometimes the bravest statement we can make, as we stroll - sober and sugar-free - into a New Year, is simply...“I think I'm done.” Not as an ending —but as the first clean, clear beginning.