How Will 2021 Be Different?

There’s a vaccine for Covid-19, our government has transitioned to a new administration, warm weather awaits us, and online school is on its last leg. With hopes high and a newfound sense of ambition, how do we make sure that 2021 doesn’t slip back into the abyss that 2020 was?

By Caroline Cohen

I was recently at the Mall of America and stopped to notice how angry I was at everyone around me. The people in front of me walked too slowly, anyone who passed me was obnoxiously speeding, and the parents consoling their crying children outside of the Nickelodeon Universe were irritating roadblocks on my rigidly set path. But why was I in a rush? Where did I need to go so urgently that I was willing to blame random civilians if I didn’t get there in under five minutes? Why was I quick to clench my jaw and roll my eyes instead of simply rerouting my path? 

In the past year, I heard many times that “now is the time for the world to slow down,” “this is the break the world needs,” and every variation on that, saying that 2020 was the perfect excuse to sit back from the fast-paced pressure cooker that we call everyday life. But if you haven’t noticed, we are impatient. That’s why I hate everyone in the mall except for myself, why I walk up the escalator instead of stand, and why I can’t bear waiting fifteen minutes in line to spend barely five minutes in the store. Maybe the same thing applies to last year. Why did we try to master six new hobbies during quarantine instead of spending time on the ones we already love? If the world was given the break it so desperately needed, why did we frantically attempt to fill our time instead of comfortably wasting it?

Over winter break, my hometown friends and I talked about “backsliding.” To us, backsliding is when someone finds themselves back in a past relationship that they’ve seemingly “moved on” from. This happens to plenty of people, myself included, when they return home for a break or feel emotionally vulnerable and seek comfort in the past. My relationship with 2020 was extremely toxic, and I’ve been working to assure myself that I will never backslide back to it. But the beauty of backsliding is that no matter how many times you promise yourself you’ll never go back, you soon find yourself in the same relationship that you swore off for good.

The promise of not backsliding is known to many as a New Year’s resolution. This is dangerous territory, as 80% of resolutions are scrapped by February, leading to a whirlpool of shame, disappointment, and self-doubt—the same ingredients that make backsliding so deliciously evil. Resolutions are many people’s way of looking ahead with both enthusiasm and initiative as they have a fool-proof plan for self-improvement. It’s the detailed resolutions that crash and burn in the most painful way, so that failing to “go to the gym every day” will hurt as badly as actually going to the gym every day. On the surface, resolutions are our holy grail, and once accomplished, they are the tool to living a more productive and goal-oriented life. But once they fail, they become just as painful as a toxic ex. 

Maybe backsliding is easy for us because it’s less complicated to go back to a troublesome relationship rather than to do the work to move past it. It’s easier to fill our time with failed resolutions than to take a minute to better ourselves. We’d much rather roll our eyes at the other shoppers than to self reflect and realize we’re in no rush. We’re all guilty of this. During the moments in 2020 when it felt like almost nothing was going right, we fell into the mental trap. We decided that because the events of the world were out of our control, there was nothing we could do but get angry. Not to say that that was the wrong reaction, though. I wouldn’t have made it to 2021 if I hadn’t ripped my mask off in anger, or laughed maniacally until I started to cry, or sobbed into my mom’s arms until we laughed, or punched something and then giggled at my lack of strength. We are all entitled to our own seemingly crazy reactions. But after we react, we have an obligation to reflect. 

How do we not backslide into the horrendously poisonous relationship that we had with 2020? By moving on with someone new, 2021? Not necessarily. Maybe we make a promise to ourselves, maybe we set some type of goal, maybe we focus on our resolution and vow to not judge ourselves if it falls through. I’ve come to the conclusion that my resolution this year is simple: to slow down. And to actually let myself do it. There is a simple beauty in taking a moment for ourselves, whether that moment is 30 seconds or an entire lazy Sunday. Slowing down looks different for everyone. For me, it’s sleeping in or watching a heart-warming movie. For my friends, it’s a long bath or an early cup of coffee alone. It could also be taking a breath and admitting that we feel helpless or apologizing after we lash out at someone we love. At the mall, I slowed down physically, so that others could pass me, and during winter break my friends and I reminded ourselves that although backsliding is tempting, it prevents us from slowing down and making the smarter decision. Slowing down is remembering to reflect after we react, and eventually getting to the extremely difficult point where we can reflect before we respond. So in 2021, give yourself a second to slow down. Remember why you broke up with 2020, and put work into your new relationship instead of falling back into the hands of your tempting and evil ex.