As 2025 begins, so do New Year’s resolutions, as many jump on the train of self-growth and improvement in their personal or professional lives. It often begins with lofty yet noble goals — reading a hundred books in a year, eating healthier or taking up a new language. It’s almost become a common idea that if a person wants to see any subtle change in their life, they need to dream big — really big. But in my three years at GW, I’ve noticed that smaller goals have as much of an impact on my life as bigger resolutions.
I was inclined to chase bigger goals for most of my teenage life but as each year went on those plans never stuck. Most of my New Year’s resolutions never made it out of the month of February — and that’s being generous. I concluded that I didn’t have the discipline or patience to work out for two hours every day or study Italian. So in high school, I made a New Year’s resolution to give up on resolutions. Achieving my annual goals was a project doomed for failure every single year, until I decided to try something new when I came to college.
Embarrassed by my yearly defeat, I decided to aim for much smaller, simpler resolutions. In all honesty, I didn’t even take them that seriously at the time. In my freshman year, after a rocky fall semester, I was considering giving up my participation in the opinions section at The Hatchet because I hadn’t yet written anything and was ready to dismiss it under the guise of lacking time for the paper. I even hadn’t been able to attend more than one section meeting throughout my fall semester.
In an attempt to write more and leave my comfort zone in the new year, I decided to write at least three pieces throughout the spring semester. I felt like a complete underachiever when I assigned myself this task, especially when my other friends seemed to be doing much more exciting things, like rushing a sorority or going on runs every day. But I ended up writing four pieces that semester, which isn’t a whole lot, but it did help me slowly become more comfortable in my own voice. I remember my earlier pieces were always vague, almost too shy to talk about my personal experiences or opinions, but I slowly started growing more comfortable talking about them and being more confident in my writing. I still get shy at times, and I know that I have written my fair share of run-on sentences, but I feel confident in my growth.
As the year progressed, I started writing more consistently, and by this time last year, my previous editor announced The Hatchet was looking for new opinions editors. At the time, I was certain I would never apply. Even though I had made it a goal to be more involved in The Hatchet, being an editor just seemed way out of my reach — leading a weekly section meeting, coming up with weekly pitches and writing staff editorials. It was too daunting. When applications and interviews for the position rolled around, I still wasn’t convinced, but I had committed to being more involved and leaving my comfort zone in the rearview, and tossing my name in the hat for the position seemed to fulfill that.
It may be obvious given my byline, but I did end up getting the job. It’s now a huge part of my life, but taking such a large leap was an amalgamation of much smaller steps. I probably could have started my freshman year with the goal of becoming an editor or getting a piece published on a biweekly basis. But having bite-sized goals made it easier to forge a path toward significant change in my life. I have always enjoyed writing, but I was never confident before college, there was always doubt lingering in my words and opinions. It’s not that I never get shy or nervous anymore, but I’ve built trust in myself and my writing. I believe in the weight of my words and pour as much of myself as I can into my pieces. As an editor, I have learned that there is always room for improvement, but I don’t let that discourage me, and I embrace the learning and challenges along the way.
I applied the same idea to my classes and major last year. I have always been interested in creative writing, but I had never actually sat down and written a short story or some other creative work. I decided to try it out while studying at GW, as part of my goal to try something new. I never expected to fall in love with it, but all it took was taking one fiction writing class. I didn’t have to commit myself to any unreachable goal, like writing my first novel or finding a literary agent. I don’t feel scared anymore in the face of doing something new, or in this case, writing whatever fulfills my imagination. I allowed myself to have fun with it, like experimenting with the perspective of an unreliable narrator, instead of being so preoccupied with the idea of failure.
Last year I also took a feature writing class that was mostly intended for upperclassmen. My professor even warned me that it was a rigorous course and that it may be harder to keep up as a sophomore — I was scared. Most of my classmates had much more writing experience than me, but I took the opportunity and the course ended up being one of my favorite classes, with now one of my favorite professors. I trust my writing abilities more but that came after trying again and again after several mistakes.
In the New Year, we’re inclined to chase those ambitious goals that will make that perfect life we’re envisioning for ourselves in 2025 a reality. But sometimes the enormity of those goals makes them harder to complete. Smaller goals serve as stepping stones to those bigger changes we want to see in our lives. There’s nothing wrong with keeping those large goals for 2025, but we shouldn’t discard those smaller promises to ourselves, because they add up and create major change.
I still get scared, make grammatical errors and need to do more work on my self-esteem. But when I look back to my freshman year, I see my growth and feel different than the girl who wouldn’t utter a word in class or the girl trying to sink into her seat during her section meetings. My growth and satisfaction in myself didn’t happen in a few weeks or months or come about by big ambitious goals, it happened through the years after a series of smaller goals.
Andrea Mendoza-Melchor, a junior majoring in journalism and mass communication, is the opinions editor.