I am giving up on making New Years’ resolutions which are bound to fail. It makes me feel like an all-round looser when it comes time to look back and reflect on the year that has come and gone. All I see are the things I didn’t do, instead of any little victories.

First up. I will put on 5 kgs. Oh, weight – already ticked that box. See? Success guaranteed.

Who needs additional deadlines and restrictions to force your life even further into what you have been programmed into believing it should be?

If I’m being honest, my jeans are a tad ‘snugger’ than they should be – and that would be the pair I bought half-way through last year to give me room to breathe. But, what I should be doing at New Year’s Eve, or anytime, is counting my blessings and taking stock of my achievements. The little wins, the ones which slip past without any real notice.

A friend sent me a message a week ago, suggesting we have a ‘Thanksgiving year-end get-together’. The rules? Draw up a list beforehand on everything for which you are grateful.

Interestingly, as I sit pondering that mandate, so many modest items come leaping out the murky mists of memory yelling “pick me”. Yup, there are quite a few of those, and they all add up.

All the times over the last 365 days I have silently whispered to the depths of my soul “oh please, don’t let that be,” begging a higher power to hear me out? Well, I am not too sure I muttered as emphatic a “thank you” at being heard.

Taking stock, I can express my gratitude now.

In an attitude of sheer wonder at what has gone right in my life, and the near misses that have thankfully been averted (we all have those times when it could have been so horrifically different), I wholeheartedly label and embrace my blessings.

So, this year, my New Year’s resolution is a resolve to be conscious of all I have. I am brushing aside society’s expectations that I must always want more, aspire “to be more, be better” because I have never agreed with the conventional vision of what “better” is.

I am never going to look like the filtered, Photoshopped, 16-year-old fashion model – because it isn’t a possibility. She’s not realistic.

I am never going to be that supermom who bakes cookies at 4am, then throws in a Pilates workout before ensuring her shiny-bright kids head off to school to dominate their worlds while she crushes it at her high-powered career. That margarine/vitamin ad is not about real people either.

I am starting with me as my benchmark. For my role models and those I look to for inspiration, I am using the wonderful women in my family, and my incredibly precious friends. I am going to accept and appreciate those around me as the extraordinary gifts they truly are. They fulfill, enrich and enhance my life, and their support both strengthens and comforts me when I need it.

So, wow! How lucky am I?