I just launched a wine app, which means I’ve spent the last six months thinking obsessively about one thing: how do you remove friction from decisions that shouldn’t be hard?
The answer taught me something bigger about rituals, and why so many of the ones we create at the end and beginning of the year fail us.
Here’s my founder story, but from the wine aisle.
Last December, I was standing in front of a wall of bottles, paralyzed. Not because I don’t like wine. I do. I was paralyzed because the entire experience was designed to make me feel small. The sommelier energy, the gatekeeping language, the implied message that if I couldn’t name the terroir, I didn’t deserve a good bottle. So I did what I always did: grabbed the same safe choice, went home, and told myself I’d “branch out next time.”
But here’s the founder insight I missed: I wasn’t actually going to branch out. The friction was too high. The stakes felt too real. So I’d repeat the same ritual, the same bottle, the same outcome, because at least it was safe.
This is exactly how most people approach their end-of-year and New Year rituals. They feel obligatory. Performative. Exhausting. You’re supposed to reflect deeply, set 10 ambitious goals, create a vision board, establish a meditation practice. It all sounds great in theory. In practice? Most people abandon their resolutions by January 15th.
Here’s why: we’re designing rituals for the person we think we should be, not the person we actually are.
As a founder, I’ve learned that the best products remove friction around what people actually want to do. The same principle applies to rituals. So instead of telling you to rethink your entire approach, here’s what actually works:
1. Audit Your Rituals for Performance vs. Authenticity
Before the New Year, write down your current rituals and practices. Your morning routine. Your goal-setting process. Your end-of-day wind-down. The commitments you’ve made to yourself.
Now ask: Which of these would I do if nobody was watching? Which ones feel authentic to how I actually want to live?
If your answer is “honestly, not many,” you’ve identified your problem. You’re living someone else’s ritual. I built Theodora because I realized I was performing wine expertise instead of just enjoying wine. Once I removed that performance, everything changed.
2. Replace Goal-Setting with Three Core Questions
Instead of your 10-goal action plan, try this framework:
What do I actually spend time on when nothing is required of me? (What you’re naturally drawn to.)
Who do I want to spend more time with? (What relationship matters.)
What outcome would make 2026 feel like a win, stripped of all performance? (What success actually looks like to you, not what it’s supposed to look like.)
Write these down. These three answers are your real ritual. Everything else is just context.
Most people I know abandon their New Year’s resolutions because those resolutions were designed by someone else’s standard of success. When you build from what actually matters to you, the rituals stick.
3. Identify Your Friction Points and Remove Them
As I was building the app, I asked myself: What stops people from choosing wine they love? The answer was friction: too many options, unclear labels, judgment if you didn’t know the language.
So I removed it. Simplified the decision. Let people be honest about what they wanted.
Do the same with your rituals. What gets in the way when you’re setting your goals? Don’t judge yourself for not being “disciplined” enough and instead build systems that are easy for you. Is it that you hate planning spreadsheets? Don’t use them. Is it that you feel guilty about not journaling? Don’t journal. Find the practice that actually works for your brain and your life, not the one that looks good on Instagram.
The people I respect most aren’t the ones with the fanciest routines. They’re the ones whose rituals are so well-designed for their actual life that the rituals almost disappear. They just work.
Here’s the bottom line for anyone building a 2026 strategy, whether that’s business goals, leadership development, or personal goals:
Stop designing your rituals for who you think you should be. Stop performing. Audit what’s actually working, build from what you genuinely care about, and remove the friction that’s keeping you stuck repeating last year’s choices.
Good rituals don’t feel like work. They feel like they were made for you, because they were.
As we head into the New Year, that’s the framework I’m offering: Stop trying to look the part. Start designing the rituals that actually move you forward. Everything else is just noise.
