Intentions and Identity

It’s New Year’s Day in 2003, and I’ve just tidied and reorganised my Sabrina’s Secrets makeup box, ready for school to start next week.

Every Christmas, I’d get a new small paper diary from Garlands bookshop in Bridlington, and that first page was always blessed with ambition, hopes, and dreams as I imparted my 13-year-old brain’s wisdom in the format of goals for the coming year.

This year, as I was entering Year 8, it felt like a crucial year to ensure tribal safety at school in the form of social status. The aim was simple: look cool enough not to get picked on.

I was already on the back foot, standing at a rather imposing 5 foot 7, shadowing my 4 foot 11 best friend Grace, earning us the nickname “little and large”. I was, of course, the “large” part of the outfit - not exactly the cute name you want growing up in the 90s, when the worst thing you could be was bigger than a size 6.

The goals were simple and precise, yet by Wednesday morning I was scrambling downstairs to meet my walking-to-school friend with barely brushed hair and odd socks, appearing in a dusting of toast crumbs like some kind of carb-loading Aladdin’s genie.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve seen the new year as a fresh start. Up until my mid to late 20s, it signalled a chance to “reinvent myself” - to evolve into a put-together, flawless, idyllic version of a woman. My goals centred on specific actions: dressing a certain way, looking a certain way, and manipulating every part of myself to appease the Vogue beauty standards of society.

Thankfully, these goals never lasted - probably because, deep down, they just weren’t who I am. They didn’t form my identity or reflect my real desires in life. So as soon as any form of resistance popped up (usually in the form of choosing work, friends, or dancing around the living room over replacing makeup and getting ready), I caved immediately.

It’s only been in the last five years or so that the goals and ambitions I’ve set have actually come to life.

From building businesses, working with dream clients, and completing a master’s degree, right through to travelling, writing, and running half marathons, the past five years have been a whirlwind of opportunities. They’ve provided much-needed proof that I can achieve the things I write down in my little diary.

So how come the huge goals I set myself now feel achievable, yet back in 2003 the simple goals of maintaining permanently surprised, wire-thin eyebrows and a base layer of biscuit-scented Dove gradual tan seemed downright impossible?

I’ve realised it’s not about the goal itself - it’s about the identity of the person setting the goal.

As with most hindsight and reflection, it’s only when things start to go right that we can understand why they were going wrong in the first place.

When I look back at all the goals buried in my rather extensive goal graveyard, not one of them belongs to the person I am … or the person I’ve always wanted to be.

I’ll never forget being in my early teens and gravitating towards women who were just a bit… well, different.

A friend’s auntie in her mid-40s who ran her own craft business and lived alone in a gorgeous little two-up, two-down terrace house.
An after-school tutor who wore the most eccentric clothing and travelled the world, collecting what I would later lovingly refer to as “pure tat” to decorate her campervan.
The local drama teacher who earned a reputation among the kids for being “a bit weird”, yet to me was the embodiment of passion and joy - and a figure of aspiration.

I don’t imagine any of these women wrote in their diaries on January 1st, “This year I want to be pretty.”

No. These women had bigger ambitions - ambitions of creation, exploration, and adventure. And this was the type of woman I wanted to grow into.

In my mid-20s, the goals shifted. I’d love to say I had a lightbulb moment, an epiphany, or some divine calling, but honestly, I think I just entered a new stage of maturity and began shedding layers of youthful insecurity.

I started focusing more on the person I wanted to be, rather than the boxes I thought I should tick.

Strong, independent, and passionate - these were just a few of the traits I aspired to. Paired with my love for building things, growing, exploring limitations, and seeking new challenges, the goals I began setting were finally in alignment with my values.

The passion and desire were already there. From that point on, it was simply about logistics, planning, and preparation.

Each hurdle felt like a fun obstacle in a Tough Mudder event, and when the big challenges came (and my God, they did), it was never a question of if it was possible - only how.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve missed goals and abandoned others. But I can confidently say this was due to shifting priorities, better-aligned opportunities appearing, or realising that the actions required simply didn’t ignite the passion I expected.

I don’t see these as failures. I see them as redirections towards a new and improved destination.

A good friend of mine once had what I can only describe as the worst boss in the world - narcissistic, manipulative, dishonest - yet she was reluctant to leave because she’d promised herself she’d stay for two years. Leaving before that, she believed, meant she’d failed.

But is leaving something that doesn’t serve you, and actively damages your health - a failure? Or is it a redirection towards a new goal centred on wellbeing and happiness?

I guess all of this is to say that my experience of goal-setting has only come to fruition once I understood and embraced my individual identity, and began setting intentions aligned with that person.

So if, like me, you’re looking at your goals for 2026, take some time to step away from the noise. Back in 2003 it was Sabrina’s Secrets beauty tips and CosmoGirl quizzes; today it’s the constant bombardment of social media telling us how we should look and what we should be doing - not to mention the “excited to announce” brigade on LinkedIn.

In reality, the only goals that matter are those aligned with you - your identity and your aspirations.

Once you’re clear on that, it’s just a case of mapping the route, packing your bag, and making sure you’re sufficiently hydrated for the journey.

And remember: if you’re reading this, chances are you’re already living a life that many people around the world would quite literally risk everything for. Lead with gratitude. Make the most of this blessing. We only get one shot, so make it a good one.