It’s Saturday, and, unusually, I’m at my office. While a man I don’t know replaces a pane of glass in the room I affectionately call The Library (240 books about therapy isn’t too many, right?), I’m mentally cataloguing all the other things that have needed fixing, lately.
These include, but are not limited to:
- The internet connection at home (glitchy online therapy is basically reinforcing trauma symptoms, not reducing them)
- My hormones (I mean, wtf is this ridiculous chaotic catastrophe they call being a woman)
- My ability to remember what day it is (oh, you need a packed lunch today? Yes of course I remembered)
- My hair (say no more)
- The emotional state of my teens/pre-teen (ugh)
And apparently – most of these things can be resolved with a bath, some journaling and a candle that smells like world peace.
The immediate jump in this current climate of do more goes from ‘this needs fixing’ to ‘do more self-care’. But, honestly? When does self-care turn into yet another chore? Self-care has gone from a well-intentioned, nourishing practice to a weaponised checklist:
- Meditate
- Journal
- Cold plunge
- Gratitude
- Face mask
- Pilates
- Eat clean
- You’re not breathing properly
- Be better
- Or else
It’s exhausting. When did we turn being human into another capitalist, aesthetic-laden, pressurised pursuit of perfection? I mean, I love a face mask (like, actually) but it’s not going to reverse almost 16 years of parenting and the fact my left wrist seizes up when it rains.
We’re not caring for ourselves. We’re curating ourselves. It’s giving ‘Instagrammable healing’ with an undercurrent of ‘this is actually just causing more burnout’. A wild grin plastered onto the outside of bubbling rage and anxiety.
What may have initially been about tuning into the frequency of yourself has become yet another way of proving ‘I’m doing my life right!’.
So .
What if self-care actually looked like…less. Taking a step back. Saying no to the plans. Not doing your hair and makeup like you’re about to walk onto the red carpet. Eating toast because you cannot be arsed to masterfully create a well-balanced meal. Skipping the workout to lie in bed and watch Taskmaster (totally telling on myself here). Working fewer hours (yes, I said it, what – we were put on this earth to work constantly?). Taking stuff away to create actual room to know who you are, what you want, and what makes you tick. Maybe self-care is accepting that everything you do doesn’t need to be in the pursuit of beating your personal best at existence. Being human doesn’t need to feel like an extreme sport.
Letting go of the ‘shoulds’. The judgment of self.
Letting yourself be messy, unproductive and ordinary.
Case in point: my office window. It’s needed replacing for months. Every time I’d walk past it my brain would twitch and go ‘this needs fixing, now’. But I haven’t got round to it. Not because I’m lazy, or disorganised, or less-than. But because being human is already hard enough and caring for yourself is, occasionally, not doing the thing.
So leave the window. The scented candle. The breathing workshop that costs more than your mortgage payment. The listening to a podcast during your commute to ‘efficiently’ cram in self development. The rat race of the perfect self.
You are a person, not a project. And, sometimes, you’re allowed to not fix everything.
You are allowed to rest.
Thanks for reading. If something in this piece stirred something in you, or you’re wondering what it might be like to explore these themes in therapy, you’re welcome to reach out. I offer sessions in-person at the therapy and counselling centre I run in Cheshire, and a limited amount of online sessions across the UK. You can find out more by heading to Insightful Life – Therapy & Counselling Centre
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