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Why Does September Feel Like a New Beginning?

Writer: Banu Oztekin Kaya
Banu Oztekin Kaya
Sep 1
4 min read

Updated: Sep 6


September has always felt like a time for new beginnings and new decisions to me. In many ways, it feels more like the beginning of a new year than January does.

Perhaps it is because summer has come to an end. During the summer months, we can loosen our routines, take holidays and step outside the usual rhythm of everyday life. When September arrives, we begin returning to familiar patterns. Schools reopen, work picks up again, and our calendars gradually start to fill.

The school year beginning in September may also have shaped this feeling. New classrooms, new teachers, new books and fresh notebooks: from childhood, September has been associated with starting again. As I currently work in education, that cycle is still a very real part of my life. However, even when I worked in other sectors, September seemed to carry the same sense of possibility.

It can feel as though we have one final opportunity to pause before the year ends—a chance to look at our lives again and ask:

There are still a few months left before the new year. If I begin now, what could I approach differently?


Why Don’t New Year’s Resolutions Always Work?

Like many people, I have made plenty of New Year’s resolutions. I have written down goals, created plans and completed coaching training. Yet helping someone else identify their next steps can sometimes be much easier than taking those same steps in our own lives.

The goals we set in January are often ambitious. With the arrival of a new year, we may expect ourselves—and perhaps our whole lives—to change almost overnight. But although the date changes, we continue with many of the same needs, responsibilities and habits.

Perhaps this is what makes September feel different. September does not promise us an entirely new life. Instead, it gently brings us back to our everyday lives and offers an opportunity to reconsider how we are living them.

But do we really need to wait for September or January before reflecting on what is and is not working for us?


What If We Had Regular Meetings With Ourselves?

In workplaces, reviews are often held at regular intervals. Teams consider what is working well, what is creating difficulties and what should be prioritised during the next quarter.

Perhaps we could bring a similar practice into our personal lives.

What would it be like to have a small check-in with ourselves every three months?

  • What has been good for me recently?

  • What has been draining or difficult?

  • What would I like to make more space for?

  • What could I reduce or let go of?

  • What do I need in relation to my health, relationships and work?

  • What is one realistic goal for the next three months?

Writing down our answers, rather than simply thinking about them, can make our intentions feel more visible and concrete. A thought that keeps circling in our mind can sometimes appear much clearer—and more achievable—once it is on paper.

We do not necessarily have to do these reviews alone. If we have a partner or children, we could occasionally sit down together and talk about how family life is going. We might discuss household finances, future holidays, time we would like to spend together or our plans for the coming year.

These conversations could help create a shared sense of direction, while also giving each person an opportunity to express what they need.


Could Planning Be Influenced by Culture?

When I first moved to the UK, I sometimes found it tiring to see how far in advance people planned their lives. Calendars were filled months ahead, holidays and activities were arranged early, and people were already discussing plans for the following year.

In the culture in which I grew up, I more often heard expressions such as, “We’ll think about it when the time comes,” or, “Who knows what tomorrow will bring?”

Of course, these observations do not apply to everyone. People within the same culture can have very different attitudes towards time and planning. However, I wonder whether living with greater uncertainty can sometimes make long-term planning feel more difficult—or even unnecessary.

Living in the UK has gradually changed some of my own habits. Yet I can still hear an old voice within me asking, “Isn’t it too early? Do we really need to make plans already?”

Perhaps this is one of the transformative aspects of migration. When we experience two cultures side by side, we become more aware of the habits we have absorbed. We can then begin to decide which of those habits we want to keep and which new ones we would like to adopt.

Planning does not have to mean trying to control every detail of our future. It can simply mean intentionally making space for the things that matter to us.

We might book tickets in advance for a play we have been wanting to see, plan a family day out, take a step towards improving our health, or set a small work-related goal.

None of these things will make life completely predictable. Plans can change, and unexpected events will still happen. But there is something deeply satisfying about being able to look back and say:

I wanted to do this. I took the necessary steps, and I made it happen.


Looking Inward Before the Calendar Tells Us To

Perhaps September really is a month of new beginnings. Or perhaps it is simply a symbolic threshold that reminds us to pause and look at our lives again.

But we do not need to wait for a particular month to turn towards ourselves.

From time to time, we can slow down, notice how we are living and ask:

What is supporting me in my life right now?

What am I continuing to carry that no longer serves me?

What would I like to give more care and attention to during the next few months?

Not every reflection needs to result in a major decision. We do not always need to reinvent ourselves or transform every part of our lives. Sometimes all we need is one small, realistic next step that genuinely belongs to us.

Perhaps new beginnings do not exist in the calendar at all.

Perhaps they begin the moment we pause long enough to ask ourselves the right questions.



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