WRITTEN BY ALICIA KOCH, FOUNDER OF THE LEGAL BELLETRIST
It is January 2026, and the collective vibe is less “sparkling fresh start” and more “just trying to keep the engine from smoking.” We are officially back at our desks, staring at cursors that blink with judgmental rhythm, trying to remember how to be productive members of society. Let’s be real – 2025 was a total junkyard of a year – a chaotic pileup of weird weather, weirder politics, and personal hurdles that felt less like “growth” and more like an obstacle course designed by a sadist.
But here we are. It’s the Year of the Fire Horse, the seventh sign in the 12-year cycle of the Chinese zodiac, that practically screams, “Giddy up, we have places to be!” Yet, for many of us, there’s a problem. You’ve outgrown your old self – that person who tolerated that specific job, those draining habits, or that particular way of moving through the world. Problem is, your new identity hasn’t actually arrived in the mail yet. You’re living in a psychological studio apartment with no furniture and a weird smell. Eeeuw!
The Liminal Space – Where Your Old Self Goes to Die (Slowly)
A liminal space is the “betwixt and between” state—a threshold where you have left one room but haven’t quite entered the next. Derived from the Latin word limen (meaning “threshold”), it describes a period of transition where normal rules and fixed identities are suspended.
This isn’t about being indecisive or “losing your spark.” This is what psychologists call a liminal space – the threshold between “what was” and “what is next.” According to research on identity transition, this middle phase is often characterised by a loss of “identity anchors,” which can lead to significant distress (Ibarra, 2003).
As someone who navigates the world with a “triple threat” of diagnosed anxiety, depression, and an autoimmune condition that turns my joints into rusty hinges whenever I’m stressed, I can tell you – this in-between phase is a nightmare for the nervous system. My anxiety wants a 5-year plan, my autoimmune system wants a nap, and my family issues want a therapist on 24-hour retainer.
When you’ve outgrown a version of yourself, the old coping mechanisms stop working. For me, that meant “powering through” (the old me’s specialty) started resulting in physical flare-ups that made me feel like I’d been hit by a very small, very targeted truck. You realise the old “you” was a suit of armour that’s now three sizes too small. You’re hulking out of it, and it’s deeply embarrassing.
The Humour of the Void
We have to laugh, because if we don’t, we’ll end up sobbing into a bowl of lukewarm oatmeal. There is something objectively funny about being a “Self in Progress.” It’s like being a website under construction in 1998 – lots of yellow “Caution” tape and a spinning “Loading” icon that never seems to finish.
We are often our own worst critics during this transition. We think, “Why haven’t I figured out my new passion yet?” or “Why do I feel like a stranger in my own life?” The truth is identity isn’t a light switch – it’s a slow-cooker. Research in self-determination theory suggests that forcing an identity before it’s ready leads to “introjected regulation” – basically, you’re just performing a role because you think you should, which is the fast track to burnout (Ryan & Deci, 2000). And that’s far from ideal.
Advice from the Trenches – How to “Horse” When You Feel More Like a Snail
Since 2026 is the Year of the Horse, and Mark Twain famously said, “The secret of getting ahead is getting started,” we do eventually have to move. But “starting” doesn’t mean you need to have the finished map. It just means you need to stop sitting in the wreckage of 2025. So, –
Lower the Bar – if you’re dealing with health or mental struggles, your “forward momentum” might just be putting on clean socks. That counts. Believe me. In the Year of the Horse, even a slow trot is better than being stuck in the mud.
Embrace the “I Don’t Know” – tell people, “I’m in a transition period.” It sounds fancy shmancy and uber professional, like you’re a corporate merger instead of a person who forgot how to have a personality.
Go with the Flow (With Direction) – sometimes the best way to find the new “you” is to stop looking for them and start doing things that don’t make you feel like garbage. Follow the path of least (internal) resistance.
Leaving Old Habits Behind
If you get to the point where you decide that the time has come to once and for all leave your old habits behind, figuring out which ones to leave behind is less about a dramatic “purge” and more about an investigative audit of your current life.
Here is a step-by-step guide to identifying which old habits no longer fit the version of you that’s currently loading –
Conduct a “Pattern Audit” of Your Stress – don’t look at your best days. Look at your worst. As ugly as they may be. Research suggests that our “default identity” – the one we snap back to under pressure – is where our most outdated habits live –
- The Step – after a tense moment, ask yourself: What did I feel? What did I do? What was I trying to protect?
- The Goal – identify if you are habitually defaulting to being the “avoider,” the “perfectionist,” or the “people-pleaser” just to survive.
Monitor Your “Energy Leaks” – pay attention to which routines feel like a “suffocating cage” rather than a stable foundation –
- The Step – spend three days tracking your response to common triggers. Note if a habit (like scrolling for hours or over-committing) leaves you feeling drained rather than energised.
- The Goal – if a habit feels “hollow” even after you’ve rested, it’s a psychological clue you’ve outgrown it.
Use the “Identity Vote” Method – think of every action as a vote for the person you want to be (this is a good one) –
- The Step – write down 1 – 3 “identity statements” for your 2026 self (e.g., “I’m someone who prioritises peace”).
- The Goal – look at your daily habits. If a habit – like checking work emails at 11 PM – is a “vote” for your 2025 stressed-out self, it’s time to put it on the chopping block.
Differentiate Between Procrastination and Growth – sometimes we think we’re failing at a habit when we’ve actually just outgrown the goal it was serving –
- The Step – ask yourself – do I need more structure to do this (procrastination), or do I need the space to stop doing it entirely (growth)?
- The Goal – if the goal itself no longer excites you, the habit supporting it is just “noise” you can safely drop in 2026.
Create “Identity Bridges” – instead of trying to vanish an old habit overnight, build a bridge to a new one (this is sometime far less pressurising) –
- The Step – replace, don’t just remove. If your old habit was “saying yes out of guilt,” your identity bridge is “checking in with myself for 60 seconds before answering any request”.
- The Goal – this reduces the “cognitive dissonance” of trying to be a whole new person while still living in your old reality.
Trust the Glitch
If you feel like you’re failing because you aren’t “rebranded” by January 31st, give yourself a break. Seriously. You aren’t a failure. You’re just moulting. And like a crab without a shell, you’re currently soft, vulnerable, and probably a bit cranky (change – any change – makes most of us cranky).
Healthy development requires the absence of clarity. You cannot see the new horizon until you’ve cleared the fog of the old one. So, while 2026 demands we move forward, remember that a horse doesn’t just gallop. It also grazes, rests, and occasionally looks at a fence and thinks, “Not today mon cherie.”
Be kind to the version of you that is currently loading. They’re going to be pretty great once the Wi-Fi catches up.
If you are struggling to figure out which “old habits” to leave behind this year, get in touch with Frieda Levycky of Braving Boundaries who can provide advice and support to help you get started.
(Sources used and to whom we owe thanks – Soulful strides; Ning Collective; Breakthatspace; James Clear; Harvard Business Review; Psychology Today; National Library of Medicine; Medium here and here; Bolde and Self-Determination Theory).
Click here to visit The Legal Belletrist website. Email: alicia@thebelletrist.com