Letís take back self-care and return it to its vintage state.
Self-care sounds like a great idea, right? I mean, the concept is sound. You feel crap, you do something you love, you feel better. Simple, huh? So why do I feel, lately, that self-care is yet another thing I might be failing at?
A quick scroll of my Instagram feed suggests a range of options for self-care. Manicures, pedicures, long white sandy beaches, fruity cocktails, designer handbag shopping, and according to one account Ė a colonoscopy.
The thing is though, I donít have the time, or the inclination for many of them (ahem, tube up the backside, Iím looking at you). I mean, if Iím honest, I just want to curl up with a blanket and my Netflix and have no one talk to me for an hour or two. But social media, and the perfectly contoured faces staring out from it, tell me that this is unacceptable.
And Iím here to say, I think thatís absolute bollocks.
How did we let it get to this point? What happened to a book, and a cup of tea? To paraphrase our favourite 90ís punk pop eyeliner fan, "whyíd we have to go and make things so complicated?"
I blame the influencers. Social media influencers are turning every facet of our lives into a competition. If you read a book in the woods in your active wear and you donít gram it, did it even happen?
The truth is, self-care is big business. The ďWellness IndustryĒ is the fastest growing in the world, and likely to keep growing. Which is all well and good if it does what it promises. A quick survey amongst my friends revealed that this wasnít necessarily the case. In fact, like most other marketing which is tailored primarily towards women, most of the people I spoke to told me that the push for elaborate self-care made them more anxious, not less.
The way self-care is marketed makes it seem expensive, and time consuming, and frankly, not accessible for most of us. When it all seems so complicated, many opt out completely, choosing to forgo self-care entirely in the face of what seems like yet another unfinished task. When pressed, my friends admitted that all they wanted was something simple. 10 minutes with a book, a morning run, coffee drunk hot, or hey, letís be honest, JUST WASHING THEIR HAIR WHILST SHOWERING ALONE. It doesnít take much to fill our cups, and by complicating the process we are driving women towards more stress, instead of away.
But, without a lavish option for self-care, will I ever feel truly hashtag blessed? Maybe not. Or at least not to the standard of happiness currently dictated by my social media feed. Positivity has transformed from a handy personality add on, to a mandatory trait. Aside from being impossible, perpetual positivity is surely inhuman! Iím constantly telling my children that all their emotions are ok, so why canít I hold myself to the same standard?
So, whatís the solution? Letís take back self-care and return it to its vintage state. Iím reclaiming ugly track pants, and dodgy cuppa soup. Packet biscuits, cups of tea in your favourite mug and trashy TV. Living rooms without well placed indoor plants. Somewhere along the way we lost sight of the entire point of self-care, and that is to fill our ever-depleting cups. And Iíve found the perfect solution. Itís not lit, or on trend, or even worthy of a snap. Itís logging out. And it works.
My son was a very fussy baby. He only settled when he was being held, he didnít nap for very long during the day, he was very uncomfortable after a feed (more so in the evening) and he never slept through the night.
I just loved this article. I hadn't thought about the whole self-care industry thing before but you are right, Haylee. I had my first 35 years ago, long before social media and all the other complications of today's world, so it's easier for me to think of self-care in its 'vintage state'. Self-care continues to be important as one ages and children turn into adults. For me self-care is many of the things you listed in the final paragraph. Ahhh a cup of my favourite instant coffee (instant may not be trendy but it works for me) in a pretty mug as I sit on the back verandah looking out at a backyard that is not magazine perfect but it's home.