Not desire. Not infatuation. Not longing. This LUST is quieter – and far more durable. And much more important.
The start of a new year has a way of asking quieter questions than we expect. Not the loud ones about resolutions and reinvention, but the subtler ones that surface when things slow down:
- What am I done carrying?
- What patterns am I ready to loosen?
- What version of myself doesn’t need to come along this time?
For me, the answer came in four words: Love. Understanding. Self. Trust. In short – LUST. Let’s take it word by word.
Love
It isn’t about another person (although I would love to be in love). It’s about my relationship with my life. It’s the recognition that I am right where I want to be – even with the heartache, the past trauma, the wrong turns, and the disappointments that didn’t resolve neatly. Love doesn’t deny any of that. It includes it. It says: This is my life, and I’m not waiting to start loving it once it looks different.
There is a feeling of arrival in embracing this way of thinking. Not as in “finished,” but arrival as in I’m here. I’m no longer living as though this chapter is a placeholder for the real one. Loving my life this way feels especially radical at the start of a new year, when so much messaging tells us we need to reinvent instead of augment. Love, as I understand it now, isn’t something I can postpone until conditions improve. It’s something I practice by allowing this moment – messy, unresolved, ordinary – to count.
Understanding
To put myself in another’s shoes and not judge. It’s about letting others be exactly who they are. Truly letting them. Everyone is standing where they stand because of what they’ve lived, learned, survived, and earned. I don’t have to agree with their choices or like what they see or do. I may even feel hurt by it. And from there I need to elevate, to understand that they are acting from what they need, not from what I want.
This level of understanding is freeing. It releases me from trying to reposition people or pull them into alignment with me. At the beginning of a new year, understanding becomes an act of letting go – of stories I keep replaying, conversations I’ll never have, and expectations that only exhaust me. I stop asking people to show up differently and start accepting where they actually show up and show me who they are. Not with resignation, from clarity and acceptance.
Self
This is the ongoing work of knowing what drives me and what depletes me – what brings me alive and what quietly drains the life out of me. It’s learning how to be true to myself while still existing with others. Compromising without disappearing. Participating without performing. Staying connected without leaving myself behind.
At this stage of life, self-knowledge is less about discovery and more about permission. Permission to structure my days differently. Permission to protect my energy. Permission to admit that what once worked no longer does. The New Year often asks what we want to add. Self asks a different question: What do I need to stop overriding? Honoring myself shows up in small, repeatable choices – declining what feels obligatory, choosing depth over distraction, designing a life that fits who I am now.
Trust
Trust is the belief that where I am is not where I end. That more will be revealed. That lessons weren’t just survived but earned and learned. That I am different now in ways that matter. I can feel it—not as optimism, but as steadiness. Change isn’t just possible. It’s palpable.
Trusting the universe doesn’t mean sitting back or giving up agency. It means believing that life is still unfolding, even when I can’t yet see the shape of what’s next. Especially at the start of a new year, when certainty feels tempting, trust asks me to stay open instead. To move forward without guarantees. To believe that clarity comes through living, not waiting.
That’s LUST.
And it’s not something you resolve to become. It’s something you grow into.
The New Year or a new day or the start of a new season, doesn’t require a new version of you. It asks for space – space created by letting go of old patterns, outdated roles, and familiar ways of responding that no longer serve you. LUST makes that space by changing how you stand in your life.
Here’s how you get there – and some tips on how you don’t.
How You Get to LUST
Stop Treating the Present as a Waiting Room
LUST begins when the present moment is allowed to count. For many of us, life has been lived with an asterisk – this isn’t it yet, this will make sense later, once this part is over. Love takes root when that negotiation ends. The present doesn’t have to be perfect or resolved to be valid. Especially at the start of a new year, this shift creates a sense of arrival: not finished, not settled, but fully here.
You stop treating the present as a waiting room. You get to LUST when you stop living as if your real life is about to begin somewhere else. Love grows when you make peace with where you are – not because everything worked out, but because you stopped disqualifying the present. In real life, this means releasing the constant internal negotiation: Once this changes… once I heal more… once I figure it out… once I have this or that. Arrival doesn’t require resolution. It requires acceptance.
Let Others Stand Where They Stand
My own authenticity and understanding deepens when other people are no longer treated as projects. Everyone occupies their own vantage point, shaped by experience, loss, habit, and survival. Agreement isn’t required. Approval isn’t necessary. What changes is the release of the urge to reposition, persuade, or wait for someone else to grow. Letting others stand where they stand clears emotional space and reduces unnecessary friction.
When I stop trying to reposition people, I can see who they are and appreciate them for just that. I let them have their perspectives, their limits, and their coping mechanisms – even when those don’t align with mine. Day to day, this looks like not chasing agreement, not demanding closure, and not personalizing someone else’s capacity. I may not like what they do. I may choose not to stay close to it. But once I stop arguing with the fact that it’s theirs to do, I can just be with them and give what they need.
Learn What Actually Nurtures You – and Honor It
Self becomes clearer through paying attention to small truths. Over time, patterns emerge. I notice certain conversations restore energy while others quietly drain it; some environments calm the body while others agitate it, some habits empower and others lead to a kind of low-grade sadness. Honoring self doesn’t require dramatic change. It shows up in quieter adjustments – less overcommitting, more discernment, to choose depth over volume. A willingness to accept what is and choose accordingly. The need to compromise fades as clarity strengthens and I stop negotiating with myself.
I learn what actually nurtures me – and how to honor it. Self-knowledge becomes real when I notice what sustains me day to day. When I choose the conversations that ground me, the people that show love and warmth. Living this way might mean saying ‘no’ more often, structuring my time differently, and setting new boundaries for my relationships. I no longer compromise to exist with others – I honor what nurtures me and that flows to others.
Stop Dragging Your Old Self Around
Change builds when behavior reflects learning. Old reactions soften. Familiar patterns loosen. Choices come sooner and with less internal debate. Growth no longer needs to be announced or proven – it’s evident in what no longer happens. Acting from the person I have become reinforces the reality that change is already underway.
When I allow myself to act like the person I aspire to be, I move towards being that person. I trust I will become that person. Momentum builds when I stop identifying with old versions of myself. I recognize that I’ve learned something – sometimes the hard way – and I let that learning change my behavior. In practice, this means walking away sooner, reacting less, or choosing differently than I would have before. I don’t need to prove growth. I now live from it.
Trust That the Story Is Still Unfolding
Trust doesn’t require certainty. It allows movement without a full map to where I am going. Especially in a new year, when the desire for clarity can feel urgent, trust offers something steadier: confidence that more will be revealed through living, not waiting. The future doesn’t need to be forced into view to be believed in.
I trust that this “now” isn’t the end of my story. Trusting the universe doesn’t mean waiting passively for signs or certainty. It means staying engaged while remaining open. I believe that more will be revealed, not because I am owed something, but because life is still in motion. I move forward without needing confirmation of the ending. I live my story as it is being written.
How You Don’t Get There
1. Rejecting the Present
LUST doesn’t take root when the current chapter is treated as something to endure or escape. When life is framed as a mistake waiting to be corrected, love stays conditional. Constant comparison, postponed satisfaction, and future-focused bargaining keep arrival out of reach.
I don’t get there by rejecting where I am. When I treat my current life as something to endure until it improves – it keeps everything I want at a distance. When I tell myself this “doesn’t count” because of heartbreak, loss, or unfinished business, I remain stuck in waiting mode. Resisting the present prevents any real sense of arrival. And now I work to learn from each twist and turn and see the next twist and turn, because for sure they keep coming.
2. Taking Other People’s Choices Personally
Understanding collapses when someone else’s behavior is interpreted as a verdict. Replaying conversations, searching for hidden meaning, or assuming intent creates unnecessary emotional labor. Others act from their own histories and needs; forgetting that turns observation into self-judgment. I heard this recently and I love it: “Q-Tip” = Quit Taking It Personally.
I don’t get there by taking other people’s choices personally. When I strive to understand, it collapses the moment, and I make someone else’s behavior a referendum on my worth. When I replay conversations, search for hidden meanings, or try to correct misunderstandings that don’t actually exist, I carry emotional weight that was never mine in the first place. Letting others be free, frees me from that burden.
3. Confusing Compassion with Responsibility
Empathy becomes unsustainable when it requires self-sacrifice. Staying quiet to preserve harmony, absorbing emotions that aren’t my own, or consistently prioritizing others’ comfort erodes self over time. Compassion that demands disappearance is not generosity – it’s depletion.
I didn’t get there by confusing compassion with responsibility. Empathy becomes a problem when it turns into self-sacrifice. Compassion does not require disappearance. It requires boundaries and taking care of my needs so I have the strength and inner light to be of service to others.
4. Living Out of Alignment with Self
Ignoring what drains energy weakens trust slowly but consistently. Overriding instincts, minimizing needs, or maintaining patterns that no longer fit creates internal friction. Without alignment, self becomes theoretical rather than lived.
Self-erodes when you repeatedly override your instincts and ignore what drains you. Overcommitting, staying in environments that exhaust you, or continuing patterns that no longer fit weakens trust in yourself. And without self-trust, LUST can’t take root.
5. Clinging to an Outdated Identity
Growth stalls when familiarity is mistaken for truth. Repeating old narratives about limitations, mistakes, or roles keeps life anchored to who I once was rather than who I am now. Change doesn’t require permission; it requires recognition.
I was not getting there by clinging to who I used to be. Growth stalls when repeating old stories about a version of myself that no longer exists. Change doesn’t need permission. It needs acknowledgment.
6. Demanding Certainty Before Trust
Trust cannot develop under conditions of proof. Waiting for guarantees delays movement and reinforces hesitation. Trust strengthens through experience – through choosing, acting, and adjusting along the way.
Trust never develops when you require guarantees. If you need proof before you move forward, you stay stuck. Trust grows through experience, not certainty. It strengthens when you move anyway. When you take the next step because you took the last one and the one before that and you are on firm footing.
What’s Next:
The new year doesn’t require a new version of you. It asks for space – space created by letting go of what no longer fits.
LUST is what happens when you stop dragging old patterns into a new season. When you release the need to fix, prove, or resolve everything before moving forward. When you choose different responses, not different resolutions.
This isn’t about having it all figured out. It’s about how you stand in your life now.
Not because everything worked out – but because you are changing.
Also read, Where Is Willingness to Do What Is Good for Me?
Let’s Have a Conversation:
What type of new year are you expecting for yourself? How are you going to make use of LUST?
