10 Permission Slips You’re Allowed to Use This January

January has a reputation problem.

It arrives heavy with expectation, dragging behind it the wreckage of December - empty bank accounts, disrupted routines, overstimulated nervous systems, and a collective emotional hangover we pretend doesn’t exist. And yet, we’re told to leap straight into self-improvement. To optimise. To transform. To become shinier, better, thinner, calmer, more productive versions of ourselves overnight.

All while it’s cold. All while it’s dark by 4 pm. All while the world feels quietly overwhelming.

So instead of a manifesto, or a reset, or a list of things you should be doing by now, consider this a gentler offering. A handful of permission slips. The kind you can pull out when January starts whispering that you’re behind.

You’re not behind. You’re human.

Permission Slip Number One: You’re allowed to go slow.

January isn’t a sprint - it’s wading through treacle in thick socks. Your body knows this, even if your calendar doesn’t. The instinct to hibernate isn’t laziness; it’s biology. Short days, low light, colder weather - of course your energy is lower. Going slow isn’t failing to keep up. It’s listening.

Permission Slip Number Two: You don’t have to reinvent yourself.

There is nothing morally superior about a “new you”. You don’t need a new morning routine, a new diet, a new mindset, or a new aesthetic to justify your existence in a new year. You are not a before photo. You are a whole person who carried themselves through last year - and that counts for something.

Permission Slip Number Three: Rest does not need to be earned.

You don’t need to be exhausted enough, productive enough, or burnt out enough to deserve rest. Lying down because you want to is reason enough. Cancelling plans because you’re tired is reason enough. Doing nothing is not a character flaw.

Permission Slip Number Four: You can cancel plans without a long explanation.

January socialising often feels like homework. The effort of leaving the house can outweigh the joy of being out, and that’s okay. You don’t owe anyone a detailed justification for protecting your energy. “I’m not up to it” is a complete sentence.

Permission Slip Number Five: You’re allowed comfort on repeat.

The same TV show you’ve watched ten times. The same dinner three nights in a row. The same playlist that feels like a warm hug. Familiarity is regulating. Predictability can be soothing. Comfort doesn’t need novelty to be valid.

Permission Slip Number Six: Feeling flat is allowed.

January emotions are often quiet, dull, and oddly heavy. Not dramatic enough to name. Not light enough to enjoy. Just… there. You don’t have to label it or fix it or turn it into a productivity lesson. Some months are emotionally beige, and that’s part of being alive.

Permission Slip Number Seven: Small joys still matter.

The good candle. The expensive chocolate. The fancy notebook you’re saving for “something special”. This is the something special. Tiny pleasures don’t need to be justified, especially when everything feels a bit harder than usual. Joy doesn’t have to be loud to count.

Permission Slip Number Eight: You can ignore unrealistic wellness advice.

You do not need to wake up at 5 am, drink green sludge, or overhaul your entire life to be worthy of care. Wellness culture loves to sell discipline as virtue, but health is not a personality contest. Doing what you can, when you can, is more than enough.

Permission Slip Number Nine: The bare minimum is still an achievement.

If you ate something, drank some water, and made it through the day - that’s not “just surviving”. That’s living within your capacity. Some days, the bare minimum is the work. Everything else is a bonus.

Permission Slip Number Ten: January can be a soft launch.

This month doesn’t have to define the year. You can start again later. Or slowly. Or not at all. You’re allowed to treat January as a gentle re-entry rather than a grand opening. There is no deadline on becoming who you’re becoming.

January is not a test of discipline or resilience. It’s a holding pattern. A liminal space between who you were and whatever comes next. And sometimes the bravest thing you can do in that space is stop pushing, lower the bar, and let yourself be exactly where you are.

If you’re getting through this month quietly, imperfectly, one small comfort at a time - you’re doing it right.

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Hana Ames is a professional content writer with hundreds of pieces of content under her belt. She is a cat and dog mama, a feminist, and a musical theatre fan, who enjoys cooking, playing board games and drinking cocktails. She has been writing professionally since 2018 and has a degree in English. Her website is www.hrawriting.com and she is always interested in discussing exciting new projects to see how she can help your business grow. Catch her on Twitter @hrawriting, Instagram @hrawriting and Facebook: www.facebook.com/hrawriting