An impulsive buy, a scented candle, a bath bomb, a new essential oil, pillow mist, the list can go on and on, are all products and practices we tend to associate with self-care, a word that gets thrown around steadily that seeks to describe the way in which we tend to ourselves after we have been battered by life and all its woes.
On any given day I can walk into TK Maxx and leave with two to three items that all fall into the self-care category. The catchy labels get me fixated on the item, but ultimately it’s the feel of buying into the promise that such an item will bring me back to my grounded rejuvenated self that seals the purchase. Though they bring temporary relief, I am slowly starting to learn to put these items back on the shelf because in reality, I feel as if I am actually engaging in faux self-care.
The act of honouring oneself, in my opinion, shouldn’t be limited to treats and short indulgences. It should involve actively caring for oneself where one ultimately has a life that doesn’t leave one feeling exhausted or overworked.
Capitalism grinds us to our core and somehow still manages to advertise to us energy pills, busy on-the-go shakes, bath bombs, and contoured sleep masks that claim to give us our lives back.
Not only do they give just temporary relief but the way in which self-care, lifestyle products are packaged and marketed makes them seem to be suited to a certain demographic. Can you imagine sharing self-care tips with a working single mom who is barely managing to afford childcare. I highly doubt a bubble bath will actually provide the self-care she so desperately needs.
Self-care is rather a radical, long-term practice and a continuous shift in self-fulfilment. It is advocating for yourself in both your personal and professional life so you don’t feel drained by them. It is actively seeking out support from your peers and loved ones to share both your grief and joy. But most importantly it is knowing you are worthy of more than temporary moments of relief. It is pursuing and attaining a life you don’t have to seek relief from all the time.
At 34 years old, as I slowly learn to put back the bath bombs (I have a cupboard filled with them) and start to really prioritise a full night’s rest, I am learning to divorce myself from news cycles. I feel they overwhelm me. I am learning to be more vulnerable in friendships and to actively seek out community because as an immigrant it’s probably better to share the feeling of isolation with those who experience it.
Our self-care needs are all different, but as we address them, may we all do so with a long-term perspective care plan.
