A compassionate reset means starting over without resolution culture
A new beginning doesn't have to arrive with a dramatic declaration
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I’ve never been completely comfortable with the pressure that comes with the theme of “starting over.” We’re often encouraged to treat a new month or year, a birthday, or even a simple Monday as an opportunity to become a better version of ourselves. We make resolutions, buy planners, create routines, and promise ourselves that this time we’ll finally get everything right.
Living with Huntington’s disease has changed the way I think about that.
My life doesn’t always fit neatly into a resolution. Some days, I feel focused, energized, and ready to move forward. Other days, fatigue, stress, cognitive changes, or physical symptoms require more of my attention than the goals I wrote down for myself. Over time, I’ve learned that constantly demanding more of myself doesn’t necessarily make me stronger. Sometimes what I need most isn’t another goal; it’s permission to begin again gently. I think of that as a compassionate reset.
A compassionate reset is different from the kind of reinvention we are often encouraged to pursue. It doesn’t require me to change everything about my life at once. It doesn’t ask me to prove that I’m disciplined, productive, or motivated enough. Instead, it asks me to be honest about where I am and what I need in that moment.
‘What do I need right now?’
There was a time when I believed that progress always had to look like forward movement. I thought being strong meant pushing through discomfort, keeping commitments no matter how tired I felt, and continuing to perform at the same level, even when my body was asking for something different. That shift has required a great deal of self-compassion.
When I feel as though I’m falling behind, my first instinct can still be to criticize myself. I can look at everything I haven’t finished or intended to do and feel disappointed. But I’m learning to replace the question “Why haven’t I done more?” with something much more useful: “What do I need right now?”
Sometimes the answer is rest. Sometimes it’s structure. I may need to return to meditation, organize my appointments, drink more water, prepare meals that support my body, move gently, or reach out to someone I trust. At other times, the reset is even simpler. I may need to clean one small space, answer one email, take a shower, sit quietly for a few minutes, or step outside and breathe fresh air. Those things may not sound impressive, but they matter.
Resolution culture can quietly teach us that our lives are always projects in need of improvement. There is always another habit to build, another goal to accomplish, another version of ourselves waiting somewhere in the future. I still believe in goals and growth. I’m still creating, learning, advocating, and imagining what I want my future to look like. But I no longer want my growth to come from the belief that who I am today is somehow insufficient.
That means understanding that my capacity may change from one day to the next. It means accepting that stress can affect how I feel physically and emotionally. It means recognizing that flexibility isn’t the same thing as giving up. I can have routines without becoming rigid. I can have ambitions without measuring my worth by how quickly I achieve them. I can be proud of myself while still wanting to grow.
Most importantly, I can begin again as many times as I need to.
There is something freeing about realizing that a new beginning doesn’t have to arrive with fireworks or a dramatic declaration. Sometimes a new beginning happens in the middle of an ordinary afternoon. Sometimes it happens after a difficult week when I finally decide to rest. Sometimes it happens after months of feeling disconnected from myself. There doesn’t have to be a perfect ending before I am allowed to start again.
That may be one of the greatest lessons Huntington’s disease has taught me. My compassionate reset isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about returning to myself with more patience than I had before. It’s about noticing what is working, releasing what is not, and choosing the next step that feels supportive rather than punishing.
I may never become a person who loves resolution culture, and I’m OK with that. I’m much more interested in something quieter and more sustainable: the ability to begin again without shame, pressure, and believing that I’ve failed simply because I need a new approach.
For me, that’s what starting over looks like now. And it begins with compassion.
Note: Huntington’s Disease News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Huntington’s Disease News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to Huntington’s disease.
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