New Year - New Mindset: Sending Mental Health Invitations (Not Setting Resolutions)

Okay, let's be honest: who else is already exhausted by the "New Year, New You" industrial complex—or who was so exhausted and busy/discouraged by previous years' unmet resolutions that they didn't make any to begin with? Because same.

It's barely 2026 and my Instagram feed is already flooded with detox teas, gym memberships being shoved down my throat, and approximately 47 different influencers telling me I need to wake up at 5 AM to journal, meditate, do hot yoga, meal prep, and probably also learn Mandarin before breakfast.

Respectfully? No thank you.

Let’s Talk About Why Resolutions Are Kinda Trash

Here's the thing about New Year's resolutions: they're often just shame dressed up in motivational quotes. They're built on this idea that you're fundamentally broken and need a complete overhaul starting January 1st at midnight, like some sort of self-improvement Cinderella story.

And let's be honest—most resolutions are rooted in some pretty toxic stuff. Diet culture. Hustle culture. The capitalism-fueled idea that you're only worthy if you're "optimized" and "productive." (Spoiler alert: you're worthy right now, exactly as you are.)

The stats back this up too. Studies show that about 80% of resolutions fail by February. FEBRUARY. We're not even giving ourselves a fighting chance here.

Let’s Not Throw Out the Baby with the Bathwater

Here's the thing: just because the resolution industrial complex is toxic doesn't mean the timing is meaningless.

Humans have been marking transitions for literally thousands of years. Solstices. Equinoxes. New moons. Harvest seasons. The turning of one year into another. There's something ancient and primal about these moments—they're what we call liminal spaces. (Fancy therapy word alert: "liminal" basically means threshold, like standing in a doorway between what was and what's coming next.)

These in-between moments have always felt powerful because they are powerful. There's something about standing at a threshold that makes us more open to change, more willing to reflect, more able to imagine things differently. Our ancestors knew this. That's why every culture has rituals around seasonal changes and new beginnings.

So maybe instead of rejecting the New Year entirely because capitalism ruined it (capitalism ruins lots of things, let's be real), we can reclaim it. We can tap into that ancient, collective sense of possibility that comes with crossing a threshold—but do it on our terms, with compassion instead of shame.

Think of it this way: just because someone turned your grandma's cast-iron skillet into a weapon doesn't mean you throw out the skillet. You can take it back, clean it up, and use it the way it was meant to be used—to nourish yourself.

That's what we're doing here.

Enter: Invitations (aka The Approach That Actually Works)

So here's what I want you to try instead: think of your mental health goals as invitations you're sending to yourself.

Stay with me here—this metaphor is going somewhere, I promise.

When you send someone an invitation, you're not demanding they show up. You're not threatening them with shame if they can't make it. You're simply saying, "Hey, there's something happening here, and you're welcome to join if it feels right."

And here's the kicker: when someone doesn't RSVP to your invitation, what do you do? You follow up. Kindly. Without judgment. "Hey, just checking in—are you able to make it? No pressure either way."

That's what we're doing with ourselves. We're sending invitations to show up for our mental health, and then—this is the important part—we're following up with ourselves with curiosity and compassion, not criticism.

Why “Manifest Your Dreams” Culture is Actually Gaslighting

Before we go further, I need to address the elephant in the room: the whole "just manifest it" crowd.

Look, I'm all for positive thinking and visualization. But let's be clear: you cannot vision-board your way out of depression. You cannot manifestation-journal your way through trauma. And you definitely cannot "good vibes only" your way into sustainable mental health.

That's not empowerment—that's toxic positivity with a spiritual makeover.

Here's what actually works: combining hopeful thinking with intentional purposefulness. That means showing up with action, even when it's hard. Even when it's imperfect. Even when you have to send yourself that invitation seventeen times before you finally RSVP "yes."

Change doesn't happen because we wish for it hard enough. It happens because we meet ourselves where we are and take the next small, concrete step.

How to Send Yourself Invitations That Actually Get Answered

1. Craft an Invitation Worth Accepting (Start with Your "Why")

Forget "I should be more productive" or "I need to be less anxious." Those aren't invitations—those are guilt trips. Instead, ask yourself: What experience am I inviting myself into?

• "I'm inviting myself to feel more grounded in my body"

• "I'm inviting myself to have energy for the people I love"

• "I'm inviting myself to practice boundaries without three-day guilt spirals"

See how that feels different? You're not fixing yourself. You're inviting yourself to something different, more satisfying perhaps.

2. Make the RSVP Easy (Like, Ridiculously Easy)

If your invitation requires a formal response with a notarized letter and three references, no one's showing up. Same goes for your mental health invitations.

• Instead of "meditate for 30 minutes daily," try "I'm inviting myself to take three       intentional breaths when I feel overwhelmed"

• Instead of "completely overhaul my sleep schedule," try "I'm inviting myself to put my       phone down 10 minutes before bed"

• Instead of "go to therapy weekly," start with "I'm inviting myself to research therapists       who take my insurance" (and hey, shameless plug: we're here when you're ready)

Small RSVPs count. Showing up for even five minutes is still showing up. Your brain likes these little wins—give it some.

3. Follow Up (Because Life Happens and We Ghost Ourselves)

Here's where the invitation metaphor really shines: when someone doesn't respond to your invitation, you don't immediately assume they hate you and burn the friendship to the ground, right? (Okay, if you have anxiety, maybe you do, but ideally you don't.)

You follow up. Gently. "Hey, I know things get busy. Still interested?" Try the same with yourself. Didn't do the thing this week? That's not failure—that's just a missed RSVP. Time to follow up with yourself, ask:

• What got in the way?

• What support do you need?

• How can you make the invitation easier to accept next time?

• Do you need to adjust the invitation itself?

Self-compassion is actually more effective than self-criticism for creating lasting change. Science says so.

4. Remember: Some Invitations Need to Be Sent Multiple Times (And that's okay!)

Sometimes you'll send yourself the same invitation every single day for a month before you finally show up. That's not you being weak or broken—that's you being human.

Recovery isn't linear. Growth isn't linear. Mental health sure as hell isn't linear.

Some days you'll RSVP "yes" enthusiastically. Some days you'll RSVP "maybe." Some days you'll leave it on read and feel guilty about it. All of that is part of the process.

The key is to keep inviting yourself. Keep following up. Keep showing up with intentional purposefulness, even when it's messy. Especially when it’s messy. Change is messy.

5. Check Your Privilege (Yes, Even Here)

Look, I wouldn't be me if I didn't bring this up: not everyone has the same capacity to accept every invitation.

If you're a single parent working two jobs, your available RSVPs look different than someone with disposable income and time to spare. If you're disabled, chronically ill, or dealing with systemic oppression, your bandwidth is different. And that's not a moral failing—that's reality under systems that were never designed for your wellbeing.

So when you're crafting invitations, be real about your actual circumstances. Your mental health journey doesn't have to look like anyone else's. In fact, it shouldn't.

Sometimes the most radical thing you can do is invite yourself to rest, to say no, to exist without optimization. That counts too.

6. Invite Others to Join You

Mental health is not a solo event. (Despite what the "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" crowd wants you to believe.)

Who can you invite along? Who's in your corner? Who will you text when you're struggling? Who will celebrate when you finally RSVP'd "yes" to that therapy appointment?

And if the answer is "literally no one," that might be your first invitation: finding or building community. Group therapy, support groups, online communities, that one friend who gets it—whatever works. We're not meant to do this alone.

The Bottom Line

You don't need to become a different person in 2026. You don't need to "fix" yourself. You're not a renovation project or a failed prototype.

But if you want to tend to your mental health—if you want to build some skills, create some space, or just feel a little less like you're constantly treading water—start sending yourself some invitations. Make them specific. Make them doable. Make them kind.

And then follow up. Show up with intentional purposefulness, even when it's imperfect. Especially when it's imperfect.

Because here's the truth they don't put on motivational posters: sustainable change isn't about manifesting or willing it into existence. It's about showing up, day after day, invitation after invitation, with compassion and action working together.

You can't just think your way into better mental health. But you can invite yourself there, one small RSVP at a time.

If you're sitting here thinking, "Okay, invitations are great, but I need actual professional support," I hear you. Adams Mental Health has providers across four Valley locations plus telehealth options. Yeah, this is a shameless plug, but it's also true: we give a damn. If you need support beyond a blog post, reach out!

And if this resonated with you (or at least made you laugh once), send it to someone in your orbit who might need it. Mental health conversations are contagious—the good kind.

With Support,

Mya L. Adams M.Ed., LPC, ADHD CCSP, C-DBT

Adams Mental Health

Where your mind matters!