The Pressure to Become a “New You” is a Form of Self-Erasure
On high-control conditioning and the myth of self-improvement.
Content and Trigger Warning: As I was creating the video for this piece, the editing software’s AI-automatic scanner flagged quotes I read from pastors in pulpits as violating community guidelines against “self-harm.”
It’s a stark reminder that this language is not benign.
The fact that it is common in pulpits is the very reason this conversation is so necessary. Please take care of yourself as you read and give yourself permission to disengage at any point.
Over the next few weeks, we’ll continue to explore this theme.
To support this journey, I’ve poured my research and practice into a new guide called “Resolutions Without Shame,” which is now available as an included resource to all my paid subscribers, and I’ll be sharing more about it next week.
Does the phrase “New Year, New You” land like a shock wave in your nervous system?
I remember it so clearly: sitting in the cushioned rows of a church in Washington, a few days into a new year. The sermon was a distasteful blend of secular ambition and sacred texts. The familiar buzz of “New Year, New You” capitalism (normally seen in gym ads and diet commercials) was being repackaged from the pulpit, seamlessly woven into verses like, “Behold, I am making all things new.”
It was the same energy that fueled the annual “21-day fasts” which were promoted as spiritual disciplines, but with a knowing wink and a subtle nod toward the waistline.
For many of us, especially those who have survived high-control environments, this season doesn’t feel like a fresh start.
It feels like a performance review we are doomed to fail. It arrives with a quiet, familiar dread.
Is that your experience this year? If so, you are not alone. And there is a very good reason for that feeling.
It’s a pattern of control.
In a previous post, The Playbook of Control, I named this tactic:
Imposed Identity & The Erasure of Self.
The playbook describes it this way: The ultimate goal of a high-control system is not merely to control your behavior, but to dismantle your authentic self and replace it with a new, system-approved identity.
For those of us who grew up in high-control theological frameworks, this language is pervasive. Does any of this sound familiar?
“You must abandon yourself.”
“Put to death the old person and sinful ways.”
“Become a new creation.”
In these systems, the self was not someone to be known, trusted, or integrated. It was the enemy. Your thoughts, feelings, and desires were deemed untrustworthy.
Your very being was a ‘before’ picture, waiting to be annihilated so a more acceptable ‘after’ could take its place.
This is the ideology of Self-Erasure.
When we see it mirrored in the culture, especially in the “New Year, New You” marketing narrative our bodies remember. Our nervous systems recognize the pattern.
The message, whether from a pulpit or a marketing ad, is the same: You, as you are right now, are not enough. You must be replaced.
This is a quiet violence against the self. It severs the sacred trust you have with your own body and your own experience. It reinforces the all-or-nothing, pass/fail thinking that high-control systems thrive on.
It suggests that growth is not about integration, but removal.
The new year does not have to launch an unsustainable sprint to change who you are.
What if you don’t need to be erased?
What if the parts of you that feel messy or broken are not shameful flaws to be destroyed, but tender messengers asking for your attention? What if growth isn’t about becoming a “new you,” but about having the courage to finally come home to the you that has been there all along?
Instead of performance-based resolutions, we can lean into gentle intentions. Intentions rooted in self-compassion and a deep honoring of our shared humanity.
When we accept that struggling, faltering, and feeling tender are universal human experiences—not personal, moral failures—we can let go of the shame that isolates us.
We no longer carry the heavy burden of pass/fail resolutions, which is the exact same type of performance-based religiosity so many of us endured in high-control systems.
When we move toward our intentions with self-compassion, change happens.
Not through erasure, but through integration.
Not through shame, but through safety.
Your anxiety is not a character flaw to be removed. It is a part of you, holding a story, likely trying to keep you safe.
Your sadness is not a sin. It is a testament to your ability to love and to lose.
Your exhaustion is not laziness. It is a wise signal from a body that has carried too much for too long.
We do not need to perform a self-renovation project for public approval.
We need to practice a gentle return to our own sacred, inherent, and permanent wholeness.
An Embodiment Practice: The Compassionate Noticing
This is a practice of shifting from judgment to watching. It’s a way to listen to yourself instead of trying to fix yourself.
Consent is Key. If this practice doesn’t feel safe or welcome, please feel free to move on. Find a quiet moment. Sit or lie down in a comfortable position. You can close your eyes if that feels safe.
Place a hand on your chest and a hand on your stomach. This provides a gentle, physical anchor to the present moment. Take three slow, soft breaths. No need to force them.
Ask a gentle question. Instead of asking, “What’s wrong with me?” or “What do I need to change?” silently ask your body: “What is here right now?”
Simply name it. Without judgment, just notice what arises. Anxiety is here. Sadness is here. A flutter of hope is here. Numbness is here. Tiredness is here. You don’t have to do anything about it. The goal is not to change the feeling, but to acknowledge its presence with gentleness. You are simply letting yourself be seen, by you.
Breath and Gratitude. Take one more breath and offer gratitude to your body for its honest communication.
You are not a problem to be solved; you are someone to be known, trusted, and integrated.
The pressure to become a “New You” is a myth rooted in systems that profit from your self-abandonment. You are not a ‘before’ picture. You are a whole person, right now, in this moment. Your worth is inherent and permanent.
Let us move in a way where we can shift away from the rigid cage of resolutions and toward the gentle compass of our own sacred intentions.
You deserve to approach the turning of the calendar with dignity, not dread.
Over the next few weeks, we’ll continue to explore this theme.
To support this journey, I’ve poured my research and practice into a new guide called “Resolutions Without Shame,” which is now available as an included resource to all my paid subscribers, and I’ll be sharing more about it next week.