New Year’s resolutions. One of my most disliked societal expectations. Why am I the New Year’s resolution Grinch? Because they so often focus on giving something up—a surprisingly negative way to start a New Year.
In 2019, I decided to join the New Year’s resolution club, but to do it my own way. Instead of giving something up, I was going to take something on: taking care of myself.
Here’s what taking care of myself actually looked like—and what it taught me.
Where was I?
Our industry is incredible, and I’ve loved being part of it for the last 13 years. But like many others, the pressures of not only our industry but of life in general can take their toll. This is where I found myself in 2019:
Waking up each morning feeling anxious about what the day would bring
Working longer and longer hours just to keep on top of my workload
Having poor interactions with colleagues because I was so overwrought
Struggling to sleep due to worrying about what the next day would bring
Making mistakes in my work due to exhaustion—putting clients at potential risk
Eating sporadically around tasks and not always making healthy choices
Barely moving from my desk during the day
This wasn’t just affecting the quality of my work; it was impacting my relationships both in and out of the workplace.
At work, I lacked patience and found myself increasingly intolerant of others, which led me to take on more work just to “do it right myself” the first time.
Outside of work, I had neither the time nor the energy to invest in friendships, and I became increasingly isolated. My relationship with my other half was almost non-existent—we were like ships passing in the night.
Something had to change.
What did I do?
I knew I couldn’t change everything overnight. I needed to implement sustainable changes over time. I didn’t want a perfect January only for everything to crumble in February. The changes I made took six months or more, and I didn’t always stick to them—but when I slipped, I picked the habit back up the very next day.
That was one of the hardest parts: not falling back into the easy, comforting, and familiar behaviours, despite knowing the negative impact they were having on me.
Learning to set boundaries
I needed to prioritise myself rather than work or other people. I hold on to the phrase “you can’t pour from an empty cup”—to give my best to others, I first had to take care of myself.
Saying no at work. If I already had too much on and knew that taking something else would mean even more overtime and exhaustion, I was honest. I explained that I didn’t have the capacity at that moment and looked for alternatives. Could it wait until next week? Could I start the task and hand it over? Could I oversee it rather than action it myself?
Saying no at home. Not everything needed to be my responsibility—and not everything I was doing even needed to be done. I consciously asked myself, “Is this necessary?” and stopped doing things around the house that, while nice to have, weren’t going to impact my life if they didn’t happen.
Working hours. The big one in this industry. I set strict boundaries around when I logged in and out. This took real discipline, particularly with the ability to work from home, where work is always there—and so is the temptation to log in.
Taking breaks. I started blocking out time at lunch so I didn’t end up in back-to-back meetings all day. I also blocked time at the end of the day so a reminder would pop up and tell me to log off when I said I would.
Making daily time for me. Instead of getting up and immediately logging in, I started waking up 30 minutes earlier to do something just for me—whether that was going for a walk, grabbing a coffee, or reading. It meant I didn’t feel that work was the only thing I achieved from Monday to Friday, and it eased the resentment I had begun to feel.
Doing nothing.
Each month, I’d take out my diary and deliberately block a day—or even just a morning or afternoon—at the weekend where I had no “home” responsibilities. A few hours just for me to do nothing—which, at first, felt incredibly selfish. No chores. No socialising. Nothing classically ‘productive,’ but something deeply productive for my wellbeing. That might look like a long bath and a proper pamper session, curling up with a book, or taking myself out for lunch. It was an opportunity to completely switch off from adulting and simply be
Prioritising physical wellbeing
It’s massively underestimated just how intrinsically linked physical and mental wellbeing are. I knew that to improve my mental health, I needed to focus on my physical health too.
Eating. Eating three meals a day became non-negotiable, and I set reminders in my diary. I batch-cooked meals on Sundays and portioned them out for the working week, giving me something nutritious and easy to grab during breaks. This also saved me money.
Ditching caffeine. For me, caffeine had become a substitute for eating and wasn’t giving my body what it needed. I switched to decaf for the psychological hit—without the jitters.
Exercise. Movement is so important. Whether it was the gym, a YouTube yoga video, or a walk or run, I made a conscious effort to move my body every day. After some trial and error, I started doing this in the morning, as something always seemed to come up if I left it until the evening.
Back to nature. Research suggests that just 20 minutes in nature each day can positively impact both mental and physical wellbeing. Fresh air clears the mind, sunlight helps generate vitamin D and getting outside forces us away from our desks. I combined this with my newly enforced lunch breaks to step away from my screen and get my nature fix. Even when the weather was bad, I still went out—I wasn’t going to shrink if I got a bit wet.
Better sleep. I had massively underestimated this one. I became strict about going to bed and waking up at the same time every day—even on weekends. Over time, that consistency significantly improved my sleep quality. I also cut out screen time before bed, instead using a meditation app to help me unwind.
Relearning how to communicate
The power of conversation is hugely underrated. Being able to talk about how you’re feeling can lift an enormous weight. Connection is a deeply human need, but meaningful relationships can easily be sidelined when life gets busy.
Connecting with friends. I put catch-ups in the diary and combined them with daily walks, morning coffees, or phone calls while cooking dinner (or doing Sunday meal prep).
Talking to colleagues. Opening up about the changes I was making—and why—helped me feel more supported. It also encouraged others to do the same, allowing us to support each other.
Professional support. I also spoke to a therapist weekly, then fortnightly. It helped me better understand myself and my emotions, which in turn helped me manage my reactions to situations. I used some of the money I saved from not buying daily meal deals to go private. That said, many companies offer free talking therapies through EAPs, and most life or illness insurance policies include therapy as an added benefit—both always worth exploring.
Avoiding social media. While it gave me a sense of connection, it was a superficial one. I found myself endlessly doom-scrolling instead of spending time on things that genuinely benefited me and my real-world relationships. Initially, I came off social media completely. After a few months, I reinstalled the apps but buried them in folders so they were harder to access. Sometimes I even set a timer when I went on them—forcing myself to log off again rather than slipping into old habits.
Making change sustainable. Progress is better than perfection. Missing one day of good habits isn’t a disaster; letting one setback derail everything is.
Discipline is more powerful than motivation. You won’t always feel like doing the things that are good for you—and that’s when discipline has to take over. The steps I put in place became non-negotiable. Self-care is no longer a “nice to have” for me; it’s essential.
Over time, those steps became habits that—for the most part—are now easy to maintain.
Has this ‘fixed’ my mental health?
Absolutely not. What it has done is give me far greater control over it. Just like physical health, mental health requires ongoing effort and commitment—and it’s just as important. While a ‘one and done’ solution would be ideal, I now know that taking care of myself isn’t optional.
It’s something I’ll keep choosing—not just every January, but every day.
Mortgage Industry Mental Health Charter (MIMHC) co-founder and group sales director at Crystal Specialist Finance Jason Berry is hugely supportive of Summersgill:
“Emily’s honesty in sharing her experience takes real courage, and it’s a powerful reminder that resilience isn’t about pretending everything is fine — it’s about recognising when change is needed and taking ownership of it.”
He added: “What makes this even more compelling is that, throughout this journey, Emily continues to deliver outstanding results and outcomes for her clients. That combination of self-awareness, professionalism and care for others is something our industry should both respect and learn from. Our sector seeks leaders who are role models and Emily is a great example”.
Emily Summersgill is learning and development coach at L&C