There’s something about the new year that whispers promises of transformation, fresh starts, renewed focus, big dreams. But for single parents, that whisper can feel more like a taunt. When you’re already managing everything on your own, the pressure to set and crush new goals can feel completely out of reach.
Maybe you’ve tried in the past. Maybe you’ve mapped out plans with color-coded lists or joined a gym with the best intentions. But then life happens. Unexpected bills, custody challenges, a child’s meltdown, and suddenly your “new year, new you” is buried under the weight of daily survival.
It’s not because you’re undisciplined. It’s because traditional goal-setting wasn’t built for the complexity of single parenting.
When routines are unpredictable and emotional reserves are low, big goals can feel like a setup for failure. Elizabeth Cole, a single parent, puts it simply: “I didn’t have time for personal goals. Every day was different. I didn’t have anyone helping me think through what I wanted, let alone how to get there.”
That absence of support, both practical and emotional, is something many solo parents experience. There’s no accountability partner cheering you on when your evenings are filled with bath time, dishes, and a quiet kind of loneliness. There’s often no one else to remind you to keep going when everything feels like it’s falling apart.
Marissa Lee, single parent and author of Mama Dad, remembers how disorienting those early years were. “Everything had changed. My previous goals were blown out of the water. I wasn’t thinking about becoming a better version of myself, I was trying to make sure my kids were fed.”
When survival takes the lead, self-improvement starts to feel like a luxury. And when attempts at growth fall flat, what’s left is often shame. The quiet, invisible kind. The kind that says, “Why can’t you just get it together?”
You’re not alone in that.
But what if you stopped trying to force a version of growth that doesn’t fit this season of your life?
Marissa eventually found peace in micro-decisions, the small, intentional choices she could actually manage. “Instead of committing to a huge outcome, I started with things like reading 10 pages a day, or cooking one healthy meal on Sundays. I didn’t need to change everything, I just needed something that made me feel grounded.”
That shift, from performance to presence, can be life-giving. It redefines success not as hitting a benchmark, but as honoring your capacity in this moment.
When the pressure to accomplish fades, it opens space for curiosity, consistency, and even joy.
Robert Beeson, founder of Solo Parent, encourages parents to adopt a growth mindset instead of chasing rigid goals. “You don’t have to win or lose,” he says. “Just keep trending in the right direction. Ask yourself, ‘Is this thing enriching me emotionally, spiritually, or physically?’ That’s a better question than ‘Am I succeeding?’”
It’s not about settling. It’s about realigning with what’s possible, and what actually matters.
Growth doesn’t have to begin with pressure. It can begin with curiosity.
Elizabeth started running again, not because she had a goal to run a marathon, but because she noticed it made her feel more like herself and helps her release anxiety. “When I wasn’t running, I felt off balance. So I kept doing it, not to hit a certain distance, but because it made me a better version of myself.” And when she picked up journaling again, it wasn’t to become a more productive person, it was because she noticed how much it helped her process and regulate her thoughts. “Anytime I go too long without journaling, I’m not in a good place. It’s one of those things that brings me back to center.”
That’s the kind of self-awareness that goal-setting often overlooks. Instead of measuring success by outcomes, what if you measured it by alignment? ‘Does this help me feel calm? Connected? Whole?‘
You don’t need another list of resolutions to prove your worth.
If you’re in a season where you can’t commit to anything beyond showing up for your kids and getting through the day, that’s not a failure. That’s resilience.
So maybe this year doesn’t need to be about a checklist. Maybe it needs to be about choosing a theme, like rest, healing, or stability, and letting that be your filter for decisions.
Ask simple questions:
Does this move me toward peace?
Is this serving my mental or emotional health?
And if the answer is no, you’re allowed to let it go.
You don’t have to grow the way everyone else does. You just have to grow in the direction that’s right for you.
