January Is When Shame Gets Loud
How urgency disguises itself as self-improvement
January has a particular kind of energy to it. Even if you’re not paying close attention, you can feel it in the background. A sense that you should be doing something by now. Getting back on track. Cleaning something up. Fixing what didn’t work last year.
For a lot of people, that energy doesn’t actually feel motivating. It feels evaluative. Like you’re being measured or assessed. And before long, that pressure starts to sound like something else. Like shame.
Shame rarely announces itself directly. It doesn’t usually say, you should feel bad about yourself. Instead, it shows up as urgency. As restlessness. As the feeling that you’re already behind. It borrows the language of self-improvement and disguises itself as discipline, accountability, or “just being honest.”
January amplifies this, especially around bodies, food, and health. The messaging gets louder. The promises get more confident. The idea that this is the moment to finally get it right settles in quickly. And if you don’t feel ready to jump into action, it can start to feel like proof that something is wrong with you.
This is often the moment people decide they need to fix themselves.
Feeling worse in January doesn’t mean you failed. It doesn’t mean you lack motivation or willpower. More often, it means you’re doing exactly what this system is designed to produce. We live inside a culture that depends on us feeling uncomfortable with ourselves. That discomfort creates urgency, and urgency creates demand. When you feel like something is wrong, there’s always something ready to be sold as the fix—the gym membership, the cleanse, the new plan that promises to finally make it better. The problem isn’t that you’re uncomfortable. The problem is that we’ve been taught to treat discomfort as evidence that we need fixing, instead of a signal to slow down and pay attention.
Last week’s post was about noticing. And if we pause here, this might be what we notice:
The tone of your inner voice.
The pressure to hurry.
The way shame tries to pass itself off as help.
Shame loses some of its power when it’s named. When we realize that the urgency we feel isn’t a personal flaw, but a familiar pattern that shows up right on schedule.
The invitation here is to notice. Not to argue with the shame, fight it, or beat yourself up for feeling it. Just to see, with a bit more clarity, what’s happening. Instead of zooming in, zoom out, be curious. See how shame is showing. And, just like President Bartlett said to Sam Seaborn as they played chess, “See the whole board.” (Of course, I’m going to add a West Wing quote when I can.)
You don’t have to fix yourself this month. You don’t have to respond to every loud message with action. Sometimes the work is simply noticing how loud the voice of urgency sounds, and choosing not to let that volume set the direction.
This year isn’t about fixing yourself. It’s about having better support while you figure out what’s next.
Where do you notice urgency turning into self-criticism right now? How are you noticing shame this month? How are you finding ways to zoom out?
Wonderfully said Aaron
Shame seems like it's always there, just underneath the surface. But at this time of year, it can rear its ugly head. At its core, shame is based on the inborn need for a human to feel loved. When we approach it that way, that urgency to fix, to address, to shrink, to change can sound loud. Thank you Aaron for pointing this out and for bringing this into the light. That's where shame can't live.