There’s a lot of talk about self-care these days. It seems that everywhere I look, someone’s promoting “me time,” “self-love,” or that magical “self-care Sunday” with bubble baths, expensive skincare, meditation, and fucking matcha latte’s. And here’s the thing: I get it. I want to be that effortlessly serene, well-moisturized person with a mind clear as the morning sky and a calendar carved out for self-care rituals. But honestly, self-care is HARD. And sometimes, it’s even exhausting. I mean, who knew taking care of yourself could feel like a part-time job? I saw a video recently of Drew Barrymore interviewing Matthew Hussey, and he said this thing that has been stuck in my mind ever since. Let me quote exactly what he said:
“Imagine for a moment that at the beginning of your life you were given a human, and you were told: you have one job: For the rest of your life you have to take care of this human. Most of us have not realised that that’s our job. We finish our parenting when we were raised by somebody else, then we go out into the world and we start looking for someone else to show up for us. But we are our human. The only person who’s truly here to take care of us, is ourselves. I’m in my custody. And when you wake up in the morning and you ask yourself “what would I do today if I was taking care of my human”, the answer would be completely different from what we do most days when we beat ourselves up, when we put ourselves around toxic people or around people who don’t treat us well. It’s completely different, and it makes us realise that loving ourselves isn’t a feeling, it’s an approach. It’s a job. You don’t even have to like yourself today to love yourself. Liking yourself can come later with all of the things that make you proud and all of the things you do and accomplish. Loving yourself today is your job.”
That really stuck with me. Because on one hand, it’s meant to be this deeply personal thing where you listen to your inner needs and, you know, give yourself what you actually need to feel better. But on the other hand, it’s now a cultural phenomenon, complete with hashtags, curated aesthetics, and influencers who’ve turned it into a money making scam. I’m expected to meditate, meal-prep, take melatonin gummies, lavender spray, calming candles, green powder and journal my way into mental stability like some kind of Zen productivity guru. But the truth is, my “self-care” is often a little messier, a little more “winging it,” and a lot less glamorous.
The Myth of “Perfect Self-Care”
Let’s get one thing straight: real self-care is rarely Instagrammable. It’s not a spa day with cucumber slices over my eyes; it’s telling myself to get out of bed even if I feel like doom scrolling and rotting my brain with tv shows the whole day. Self-care is less about the five-step skincare routine and more about learning to say “no” to people who drain my energy like it’s an all-you-can-eat buffet. (I’m currently trying to distance myself from one specific individual who luckily doesn’t speak English so he can’t read this, but for goodness sakes, get the hint already!) Anyway self care isn’t pretty—it’s practical and it’s an effort.
But try telling that to Instagram. Social media makes it look like self-care means living in a constant state of mild bliss, complete with motivational quotes and green smoothies. I’m told I should be keeping up with a 12-step beauty regimen, tracking my daily affirmations, and doing yoga at sunrise. SUNRISE. Meanwhile, my version of self-care looks more like 10 minutes of peace and quiet as I sit on the side of my bed and I try to talk myself out of anxiety spirals. I’d love to be someone who finds clarity while sitting cross-legged on a mountaintop, but honestly? I’m lucky if I remember to sit in a chair that supports my lower back.
Self-Care in Real Life: The Basics
Here’s a hard truth: sometimes, self-care is just getting out of bed. If we’re talking about self-care that actually helps, it’s not glamorous. It’s brushing my teeth even when I’m feeling low and lazy. It means washing your invisalign and putting them on. It’s giving yourself a time limit to watch your favourite show, then reading ten pages of the book you were so excited to purchase. It’s spending a Friday night staying in and watching a movie with my mom while we drink tea and braid each other’s hair, because the idea of going out sounds as appealing as getting hit by a bus.
In real life, self-care is permission to be imperfect. It’s skipping a workout because my body feels like it needs rest more than it needs burpees. But it’s also telling myself that I at least need to go for a walk every day, as I know such a simple thing can elevate my mood. It’s telling myself that eating a homemade muffin at midnight doesn’t mean I’ve failed as a human. Self-care is messy, indulgent, and entirely unique to each person—because, newsflash, we’re all complicated, and what we see on social media, is quite frankly, mostly bullshit.
The Existential Crisis of Self-Care
There’s also the weird irony that sometimes, too much self-care becomes… stressful. There are so many self-care practices out there, so many routines and hacks that it’s overwhelming. You start with a simple goal—say, to take better care of your mental health—and suddenly, you’re bombarded with a thousand ways to optimize yourself. Should I journal? Meditate? Try breathwork? And what’s this about an ice bath at dawn? (I’m joking, you couldn’t pay me to do that)
It gets to the point where self-care feels like homework, and suddenly I’m wondering if I’m doing it “right.” Cue the existential crisis. The whole point of self-care is to reduce stress, yet here I am, stressed out over whether I’m achieving enough inner peace. Sometimes I wonder if self-care is just another thing to check off my to-do list, right under “remember to hydrate” and “try not to cry in public today.” And then I remember Matthew Hussey, and remind myself, that in one way or another, it is my job to take care of this human.
Finding Self-Care that Actually Cares for You
Here’s the thing: if self-care is supposed to be about what makes me feel better, then I don’t need to follow the rulebook. Self-care, at its core, is about doing what makes you feel human. It’s about tuning out the noise and doing what actually feels restorative. Maybe it’s a walk in the fresh air, or maybe it’s just sitting in a dark room doing absolutely nothing. My boyfriend recently bought earloops to reduce external noise when we’re in public, and hey! That’s self care right there.
For me, real self-care means not forcing myself to be “on” all the time. It’s forgiving myself for mistakes and giving myself permission to be as I am—messy, complicated, and occasionally contradictory. It’s recognizing that self-care doesn’t need to be perfect or photogenic; it just needs to be authentic. So, sometimes, I’ll pour myself a nice glass of coke zero and watch a true crime documentary. Sometimes, I’ll talk it out with a friend who understands. Sometimes, I’ll just lie in bed and do nothing at all.
The Self-Care Mantra: “Good Enough”
Maybe the most helpful mantra for self-care is simply: “Good enough.” Self-care doesn’t have to mean that every day is a journey to enlightenment. Some days, self-care just means making it through in one piece. And that, honestly, is good enough.
So, here’s to the self-care that’s real, not ideal. Here’s to the messy, practical, no-frills self-care we actually need, whether it’s hiding under a blanket with your stuffed animal or finally opening that self-help book (even if just skipping through it a little). Here’s to accepting that self-care isn’t about being perfect; it’s about being kind to yourself, as you are, in this moment—so, do the pilates class, buy yourself those flowers, sign up for that photography course, go for that walk, call your grandparents, buy the tickets for that concert. It may feel overwhelming at first, but trust me when I say, it will be the true act of taking care of your human.
Love, V
