You Don't Need a Word of the Year (Try This Instead)
Choosing a word of the year feels meaningful. It rarely is. Here's why the practice often backfires and what actually helps you stay intentional.
Every December, the “word of the year” posts start appearing.
“My word for 2025 was ‘growth’ and it changed everything.” “I’m choosing ‘abundance’ for 2026.” “This year my word is ‘presence.’”
The practice sounds meaningful. Pick one word to guide your year. Let it be your north star, your filter for decisions, your reminder of what matters.
In practice, most people forget their word by February. The ones who remember often twist their lives to fit the word rather than letting the word emerge from their lives.
There’s a better approach.
Why Word of the Year Falls Short
The word is arbitrary
How do you choose the right word? Usually it’s whatever sounds inspiring in the moment. Whatever resonates on December 31st.
But December 31st you doesn’t know what the year will bring. The word “growth” might sound right, then you spend the year dealing with a health crisis where “growth” is irrelevant.
You’re choosing a filter for a year you can’t predict based on feelings you have now.
The word is too abstract
“Presence.” “Abundance.” “Joy.” “Intention.”
What do these actually mean in practice? They can mean anything, which means they mean nothing.
When you face a specific decision, “my word is ‘courage’” doesn’t tell you what to do. It’s too abstract to guide concrete action.
Worse, you can rationalize almost any choice as fitting your word. “I stayed in the unfulfilling job because ‘courage’ meant financial stability for my family.” The word confirms whatever you were going to do anyway.
The word becomes performance
Once you’ve announced your word on social media, you’re performing it.
You look for evidence that you’re living your word. You emphasize stories that fit. You ignore the ways your year didn’t match.
By December, you write about “how growth showed up in unexpected ways,” retroactively fitting the word to whatever happened rather than honestly assessing whether the word mattered.
You forget it anyway
Be honest: do you remember your word from 2023? 2022?
Most people forget their word by February. It provided a brief hit of intentionality, then faded into the background noise of actual life.
If you can’t remember the word, it didn’t guide anything.
What Actually Works
Instead of a word chosen in advance, try ongoing attention to what actually matters.
Notice themes as they emerge
Instead of declaring a word at the start of the year, notice what themes emerge as you live.
Regular voice reflection captures what you’re actually thinking about, struggling with, excited about. Over time, patterns appear.
Maybe you keep mentioning boundaries. That’s a theme, emerging from real life rather than imposed from a inspirational prompt.
Maybe you keep talking about creative work. Or relationships. Or health. The theme reveals itself.
By mid-year, you might have a word, but it came from observation rather than aspiration.
Set specific intentions, not abstract aspirations
“My word is courage” is abstract. “I will have one difficult conversation per week” is specific.
Specific intentions can be tracked, measured, and evaluated. Abstract aspirations can always be retrofitted to match whatever happened.
Implementation intentions, if-then plans for specific situations, outperform abstract values every time.
Not “I value presence” but “When I’m with my kids, I put my phone in another room.”
Review regularly, not just annually
A word of the year encourages the illusion that you can set-and-forget your intentions.
Monthly or weekly reflection keeps you connected to what actually matters. You notice when you’re drifting. You adjust in real-time rather than discovering in December that the year went sideways.
Two minutes per week of “how am I actually doing?” beats one hour in December choosing an inspiring word.
Let questions guide rather than words
A word is a statement. Questions create ongoing engagement.
Instead of “my word is ‘connection,’” try a question that guides your year:
- “What would make this feel meaningful?”
- “Am I moving toward what matters or away from it?”
- “What am I tolerating that I shouldn’t be?”
Questions prompt reflection. Words often become decorative.
Accept that years don’t have themes
Life is messy. A year contains multitudes.
2025 might include a career triumph and a relationship struggle. A health scare and a creative breakthrough. Grief and joy, sometimes in the same week.
No single word captures this. Pretending one does flattens the complexity into something Instagram-friendly but false.
Your year doesn’t need a theme. It needs your attention.
The Voice Alternative
Here’s a practice that provides the intentionality word-of-the-year promises without the drawbacks:
Weekly check-in (2 minutes): “Speak what’s on your mind. What mattered this week? What do you want next week?”
Monthly review (5 minutes): “What themes keep appearing? What’s working? What isn’t? Are you aligned with what matters?”
Quarterly look (10 minutes): “Zoom out. How’s the year going? What adjustments are needed?”
This creates continuous intentionality rather than a single declaration that fades. Patterns emerge from your actual life rather than being imposed on it.
By December, you’ll know what your year was actually about, based on evidence rather than aspiration.
If You Still Want a Word
Maybe you’ve done word-of-the-year before and it genuinely helped. Some people find it useful. If so, fine.
But consider these adjustments:
Choose it later. Wait until March. By then, themes are emerging from real life. The word can capture what’s actually happening rather than what you wished for in December.
Make it specific. Instead of “growth,” try “ask for help.” Instead of “presence,” try “phone-free dinners.” Specific beats abstract.
Don’t announce it. Keep it private. The moment you post it, you’re performing it. Private words guide behavior. Public words become identity claims to defend.
Be willing to change it. If by June your word isn’t relevant, let it go. Clinging to a word that doesn’t fit is worse than having no word at all.
What Actually Guides a Year
Words don’t guide years. Attention does.
Whatever you attend to regularly shapes your experience. Whatever you reflect on, track, and notice becomes more intentional.
A word chosen once and forgotten guides nothing. Ongoing reflection, even just a few minutes per week, guides everything.
You don’t need to know what your year is about on January 1st. You need practices that help you stay aware as the year unfolds.
Skip the word. Start the reflection.
By December, you’ll know what the year was actually about. And it will be true, not performed.