The Year I Stop Trying to Fit into Old Jeans

And Other Thoughts for 2026

By Meghan Ryan Asbury

A year ago, I cried in the dressing room over a pair of jeans.

IIt wasn’t even about the size of the jeans. (Which is a whole soapbox for another time.) It was because I tried on twenty different pairs in different sizes, at five different stores, and none of them fit right. I was trying to button, zip, and squeeze myself into them, doing squats to make sure I could sit down comfortably, only to end up hating how they made parts of my body look.

Deeper than the physical frustration was the internal shame I heaped on myself. Why did it bother me so much? In my thirties, shouldn’t I be more at peace in my own skin? I felt like I should be past wrestling with my thoughts at the mall. I thought I had outgrown the fifteen-year-old version of me who thought she had to be skinny to be accepted.

On my best days, I’m at peace in my own body, but then something like a pair of jeans quickly makes me want to take extreme measures to be smaller again. And while I know a pair of jeans doesn’t define who I am, it doesn’t change the dread that comes with stepping into the dressing room.

Stepping into a new year, many of us resolve to do better, get better, and be better. Our culture is inundated with wellness and fitness trends promising to make our bodies operate like they are fifteen forever. I’m all for health and taking care of yourself—you’ll find me taking supplements, doing my skincare routine, and “biohacking” with the best of them. But what if that’s not actually going to fix me? What if our obsession with wellness is making us more discontent and dissatisfied than ever?

Maybe it’s because I’m Type A, or because I can be addicted to achievement, but New Year’s resolutions have always felt a little exhausting. They’re dressed up as motivation, but underneath, so many are rooted in the belief that we’re not enough right now. We think if we’re more disciplined, more toned, more organized, more something, then maybe we’ll finally feel worthy. But what if the feeling we’re chasing was never hidden in a Pilates membership, greens powders, or a perfect morning routine? What if the real work is learning to let ourselves be loved—even in the body we have today?

I’ve started noticing how often I approach wellness like it’s a report card: how I eat, how I move, and whether I tick every box on my “healthy habits” list determine how good I feel about myself. It’s wild how quickly the pursuit of health can turn into pressure, and how pressure almost always disguises itself as self-improvement. But pressure has never made me healthier. It’s only made me frustrated that doing all the right things doesn’t lead to the outcomes I want.

Last winter, despite wearing all the non-toxic sunscreen and eating a healthy diet, I still ended up getting diagnosed with skin cancer. Even though I followed the rules of staying healthy, it didn’t save me from the reality of my body being broken. It revealed to me that’s how I treat all of life, especially my faith. If I do all the right things, God should “bless me” with a healthy and happy life, right?

But life has a way of undoing the illusion that we’re in control. Maybe that’s not a punishment, but an invitation to loosen our grip, to rethink what “healthy” and “blessed” even mean. Because when everything I can do still isn’t enough, maybe that’s exactly where grace does its best work—in the places where my effort finally runs out.

The more I sat with it, the more I realized I had been treating God the same way I treated my wellness routines—as if the “right” habits, the “right” behaviors, and the “right” effort could somehow guarantee a certain kind of life. But His blessing has never worked like a vending machine. It doesn’t always look like health, ease, or everything going according to plan. And He certainly isn’t standing over me with a clipboard, waiting to see if I earn His approval. Instead, He offers something far better than the outcomes I’m trying to control: He offers Himself. A presence that doesn’t waver when my body changes, when my plans fall apart, or when I can’t hold everything together. A love that isn’t contingent on who I wish to be, but steady for who I actually am.

And when I let that truth settle—really settle—it softens everything. Suddenly, wellness doesn’t feel like a checklist to impress God or anyone else. It becomes a way of caring for the body He’s entrusted to me, not a way of earning something from Him. The pressure to get everything “right” loosens its grip because I’m no longer chasing perfection; I’m receiving presence. And in that shift, there’s room for kindness, patience, and the kind of grace that lets me be a person in progress instead of a project to fix.

As I’ve started living in that place, I’ve noticed how it reshapes the way I see my body and my life. Instead of demanding it stay the same or perform the way it used to, I’m learning to honor each season. To listen to my body instead of scolding it. To let it change without assuming something is wrong. Because if God isn’t asking me to prove anything, maybe I can stop asking my body to prove something too. Maybe I can let it be what it is: a living, changing reminder that growth is allowed.

This year, I’ll be stepping into a postpartum body I don’t fully recognize. But instead of rushing to try to make myself fit into my old jeans, I’m making a promise to myself to just go buy new ones. Because His love doesn’t depend on how well we measure up, and neither does our worth. This year, I want to live in that truth—and in jeans that actually fit.

— V —

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Meghan Ryan Asbury is an author and speaker who is passionate about helping people discover and live out their God-given callings. She has worked in international ministries as well as with Proverbs 31 Ministries. When she’s not surrounded by friends, you can usually find her reading a book or enjoying the great outdoors. A 30-A beach girl, born and raised, she and her husband now reside in Nashville. Her first book, You Are Not Behind: Building a Life You Love Without Having Everything You Want, is available wherever books are sold. You can connect with her on Instagram @meghanryanasbury and at AlwaysMeghan.com.