A New Year’s Resolution Not to Diet
- victoria schonwald
- 18 hours ago
- 3 min read

Six years ago, I wrote an article called “A New Year’s Resolution Not to Diet.” It struck a nerve. It was shared widely, commented on heavily, and clearly landed because it named something many people were already feeling but didn’t yet have language for: dieting was not making us healthier, happier, or more at peace with food or our bodies.
I can’t find the original article now. But the fact that the idea still feels just as relevant — perhaps more so — tells me it’s worth revisiting.
This is not an anti-health piece. It’s not a call to give up caring for yourself. It’s an invitation to question a system that has quietly taught us to start every year by declaring war on our bodies.
The January Ritual We Rarely Question
Every January, the same script rolls out:
“I was so bad over Christmas.”
“I need to be good again.”
“I need to lose the weight I gained.”
“This year, I’ll finally stick to it.”
Diet culture frames this as motivation. I see it as collective self-blame.
The unspoken assumption is that our bodies are the problem — not the unrealistic rules, not the restriction–overeat cycle, not the stress, grief, exhaustion, hormones, illness, or life events that shaped our year.
When dieting doesn’t work (and statistically, it doesn’t), the blame quietly shifts back onto the individual.
Dieting Fails — Not Because You Do
By now, this is well established:
Most people regain lost weight
Many regain more than they lost
Repeated dieting increases food preoccupation, binge–restrict cycles, and body dissatisfaction
Long-term weight cycling is associated with poorer physical and mental health outcomes
And yet dieting is still marketed as a personal improvement project rather than what it actually is: a high-risk intervention with a very low long-term success rate.
If a medication failed this often, it would be pulled from the market.
What Dieting Costs Us (Beyond Weight)
What often gets missed is the collateral damage:
Constant mental noise around food
Loss of trust in hunger and fullness
Anxiety around eating socially
Guilt for eating normally
The quiet belief that self-worth is conditional
For many people, dieting doesn’t just fail — it becomes the gateway to disordered eating. For some, it becomes the start of a full eating disorder.
And importantly: you don’t need to be underweight or visibly unwell for this harm to be real.
Not Dieting Is Not “Letting Yourself Go”
This is where the idea is often misunderstood.
Choosing not to diet does not mean:
Ignoring health
Eating without awareness
Never considering nutrition
Giving up on movement, strength, or fitness
It means stepping out of a framework built on control, fear, and punishment — and into one based on nourishment, consistency, and respect.
Health behaviours are far more sustainable when they are not driven by shame.
A Different Kind of Resolution
So what might a New Year’s resolution not to diet actually look like?
It might sound like:
“I will eat regularly, even when I feel uncomfortable.”
“I will stop earning my food through exercise.”
“I will stop treating weight change as a moral failure.”
“I will pay attention to how food supports my brain, energy, and mood — not just my appearance.”
“I will seek support instead of trying to control myself harder.”
These are not soft goals. They are often far more challenging than starting another diet.
If You’re Afraid to Let Go of Dieting
That fear makes sense.
Dieting often provides:
A sense of certainty
A feeling of being “good” or “in control”
Hope that things will finally feel different
Letting go can feel like stepping into the unknown.
But here’s the quiet truth I see repeatedly in my clinical work: people don’t lose control when they stop dieting — they slowly regain trust.
Six Years On — Why This Still Matters
If anything, diet culture has become more sophisticated, not less harmful.
It now hides behind:
“Wellness” language
Clean eating
Macro tracking
Biohacking
“Just being disciplined”
The message hasn’t changed. Only the branding has.
So this year, instead of asking “How do I shrink myself?”, I invite a different question:
“What would it mean to care for my body without trying to control it?”
That might be the most radical resolution of all.
If this idea brings up fear, resistance, or relief — that response matters. You don’t have to navigate it alone.



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