I have a minimal social media presence, plus I strictly enforce a hard cap on how much time I spend there. And yet, even I can feel the online pressure that comes with a New Year and the expectation that we should miraculously morph into entirely different people overnight.
The TikToks and self-help gurus roll out their products, programs, and schemes, promising to haul you from the couch and transform you into a super-fit, radiant, effortless rockstar who eats their goals for breakfast. It’s hard not to cringe, mainly because I, too, have played a role in propagating this “will your way to transformation” theory in the past.
These days, I’m a reforming productivity addict, actively trying to step away from the culture of toxic productivity. Now, in midlife, I realize a not-so-obvious, deep truth about goals: the reason we chase any goal has less to do with the goal itself and more with how achieving it will make us feel.
When I run a marathon, it isn’t the running that matters most. It’s how I feel after completing a run I didn’t think I was capable of. Think of any goal you’ve achieved in your life, and what it meant to you: it’s always about a feeling—accomplishment, relief (financial goals), self-image (fitness).
Beyond the dopamine hit of achievement, goals give us something deeper: a sense of agency. They make us feel like we’re doing something that matters—to us, to our families, maybe even to the world.
And there’s another, often untouted benefit. When we’re busy working toward meaningful goals, we’re usually not doing stupid things, creating unnecessary chaos, or making life more challenging for the people around us. In that sense, well-chosen, clearly articulated goals can be quietly noble.
Ultimately, none of this—whether we chase or achieve goals—matters in the cosmic sense. Especially after we’re gone. But it might matter to us while we’re here. Are we showing up and doing enough to fulfil our potential, and to also do right by the people we care about?
Psychological research supports the idea that feeling in control of our actions and outcomes—what scientists call a sense of agency—is closely linked to greater well-being, especially when our goals reflect what we truly value, rather than external pressure or obligation.
Compassion over Self-care
I’ll probably get beaten up for saying this, but the internet is drowning in self-care content right now. To be clear, I’m not saying self-care isn’t important especially for someone barely holding it together, like a single parent working two jobs just trying to get through the day. But for many of us, maybe it’s time we cared for others as deliberately as we care for ourselves.
In a longitudinal research study, when participants were asked to perform prosocial acts (kindness toward others) versus self-focused acts (kindness toward themselves), those performing prosocial actions experienced greater increases in psychological flourishing, more positive emotions, and fewer negative emotions than those doing self-focused acts. Those assigned to self-focused behavior didn’t show a significant improvement in well-being compared with controls.
Other studies across different countries found that changes in subjective prosocial behavior are associated with increases in daily meaning and happiness. People reported greater meaning and modest boosts in happiness when they engaged in prosocial behaviors in daily life.
The joy that comes from giving—our time, our attention, our resources—tends to be deeper and longer-lasting when it’s directed outward rather than inward. That’s my goal for the year: compassion and presence for others. Self-care will take care of itself.