Look, I’m Over It
I’m standing in my kitchen at 11:30pm, staring at a half-finished smoothie bowl, and I’m pissed. Pissed at the world, pissed at myself, but mostly pissed at the term ‘self-care.’ It’s been co-opted, commodified, and turned into some kinda buzzword that makes me wanna scream. I mean, honestly, when did taking a bath become a capitalist plot?
Let’s rewind. It was about three months ago, I was at a conference in Austin, and this wellness guru—let’s call him Marcus—was talking about the ‘importance of self-care.’ He said, and I quote, ‘You can’t pour from an empty cup.’ I rolled my eyes so hard I’m surprised they didn’t get stuck.
‘Which… yeah. Fair enough,’ said the woman next to me, a colleague named Dave. ‘But what about people who can’t afford bath bombs and expensive skincare routines?’ I asked. Marcus just smiled and said, ‘It’s about prioritizing yourself.’
Prioritizing myself? I work 60-hour weeks, I’m raising a kid solo, and I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since 2018. When am I supposed to prioritize myself? And don’t give me that ‘wake up 30 minutes earlier’ crap. I’m not a morning person, and I’m not gonna become one just so I can meditate before my alarm clock goes off.
What Self-Care Has Become
Self-care has become this completley ridiculous industry. You gotta have the right candles, the right oils, the right damn crystals. It’s not about taking care of yourself anymore; it’s about performing self-care for Instagram. And don’t even get me started on the price tags. A $87 face mask? You’re kidding me, right?
I get it, though. I really do. We’re all stressed out, overworked, and underpaid. We need something to make us feel better, even if it’s just for a little while. But when self-care becomes another thing to stress about, something’s gone wrong.
So, I’m done. Done with the bath bombs, done with the guru’s, done with the performative self-care. I’m gonna talk about what actually works for me, and it’s probably not what you’d expect.
What’s Actually Working For Me
First off, I’m gonna say it: I don’t have time for a 30-minute meditation session. But I do have time for 36 seconds of deep breathing. I found this app—don’t judge me—that sends me a notification every few hours to remind me to breathe. It’s stupidly simple, but it works. It’s like a tiny reset button for my brain.
And, get this, I’m actually enjoying it. It’s not some big committment, it’s not expensive, and it’s not something I have to post about on social media. It’s just me, taking a second to breathe. Revolutionary, right?
I’ve also started saying no. Like, a lot. I used to be the person who’d say yes to every invite, every favor, every request. I thought that’s what being a good friend, a good colleague, a good person meant. But it turns out, it just meant I was exhausted all the time.
So now, I’m saying no. No to the late-night plans when I’m tired, no to the extra projects at work when my plate’s already full, no to the guilt trips. And you know what? It’s liberating. It’s like I’ve been holding my breath for years, and finally, I can exhale.
A Quick Digression: Real Estate Market News Update
Speaking of taking care of myself, I’ve been thinking alot about my living situation lately. I’m renting a tiny apartment that’s way too expensive, and I’m over it. I wanna own a home, a place where I can actually relax and feel at peace. So, I’ve been keeping up with the real estate market news update to see what’s going on. It’s not great, but it’s not hopeless either. Maybe one day, I’ll have a garden and a kitchen big enough to actually cook in. A girl can dream, right?
Anyway, back to the point. Saying no is hard, especially when you’re used to saying yes. But it’s necessary. It’s a form of self-care that doesn’t involve a face mask or a fancy candle. It’s about setting boundaries and sticking to them. It’s about knowing your limits and respecting them.
The Power of Small Wins
I’ve also started celebrating the small wins. Like, really celebrating them. I’m not talking about a parade or anything, but I’m talking about acknowledging them. Finished a project? High-five. Made it to the gym? Fist pump. Got out of bed on time? Confetti cannon (metaphorically speaking, obviously).
It sounds silly, but it’s made a big difference. It’s helped me focus on the positive, even when everything else feels like it’s going to hell in a handbasket. It’s helped me remember that I’m doing okay, even when it doesn’t feel like it.
And, honestly, it’s made me happier. Like, genuinely happier. Not the ‘I’m happy because I’m supposed to be happy’ kind of happy, but the ‘I’m happy because I choose to be happy’ kind of happy. It’s a subtle difference, but it’s a big one.
What About You?
I don’t know about you, but I’m done with the self-care guru’s and their expensive products. I’m done with the performative self-care and the guilt trips. I’m done with the idea that self-care has to look a certain way or cost a certain amount.
I’m done, and I’m not looking back. I’m gonna take care of myself on my terms, in my way, and I’m not gonna apologize for it. And if that means I’m not pouring from a fancy cup, then so be it. As long as my cup’s full, that’s all that matters.
So, what about you? What’s your take on self-care? What works for you? What doesn’t? Let’s talk about it. Let’s share our stories and our struggles and our successes. Let’s support each other, not sell each other stuff we don’t need.
And, look, I’m not saying this is gonna be easy. It’s not. It’s gonna be hard, and it’s gonna take time, and it’s gonna require some serious determing. But it’s worth it. It’s worth the effort, the time, the struggle. Because at the end of the day, you deserve to be taken care of. And not just in the fancy, Instagram-worthy way, but in the real, honest, genuine way.
So, let’s do this. Let’s take care of ourselves, on our terms, in our way. Let’s pour from our own damn cups, and let’s not apologize for it.
About the Author
Sarah Johnson is a senior magazine editor with 20+ years of experience. She’s a single mom, a coffee addict, and a firm believer in the power of saying no. When she’s not editing articles or chasing after her kid, she can be found muttering about the state of the world or binge-watching bad TV. She lives in a tiny apartment with her son, two cats, and an alarming number of books. Follow her on Twitter @sarahjohnsonedit or don’t. She won’t judge you either way.
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