Let’s get one thing straight: self-care isn’t always a bubble bath with a Lush bomb, a color-coded planner, or a matcha latte in perfect lighting. Sometimes it is. And when it is, we celebrate that too. But a lot of the time? Self-care is gritty. Unfiltered. And honestly… kind of boring.
It’s finally folding that basket of laundry that’s been judging you for a week.
It’s crying in the car after a long day and letting yourself feel it.
It’s saying “no” to plans—not because you’re booked and busy, but because you’re exhausted and human.
Somewhere along the way, self-care became a look. And while we love a pretty moment (you know I’m all for a well-lit flat lay and cozy candle situation), it’s important to remember: looking like you have it together and actually feeling okay are two different things.
Self-care is not performance art.
Sometimes it’s chugging water and dragging yourself to bed before scrolling one more reel.
Sometimes it’s unfollowing people who drain your joy.
Sometimes it’s rewatching your comfort show because your brain can’t handle anything else.
And that counts.
Every year, I take the week off for my birthday. It’s become a sacred tradition—a little love letter to myself, sealed in PTO. And on one of those days? I let myself do absolutely nothing. I stay in bed until I have to get up, wear my pajamas all day, and give myself full permission to just exist. No productivity. No performance. No pressure.
I also tend to skip social invites during that week. Not because I don’t love the people in my life—but because I love myself enough to honor when I need quiet over chatter. Some years, the best gift I give myself is space.
And when my heart feels full in that weird, heavy way? I’ll cue up one of my favorite rom-coms and have a good, cathartic cry. (Is it even a proper rewatch of When Harry Met Sally if I don’t tear up at the end—when Harry says that when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible? I’m going to cry now just thinking about it.)
I’ve also had cereal for dinner more times than I can count. And not the influencer-approved, protein-packed kind. I’m talking Lucky Charms in a mixing bowl the size of my head. No shame. No judgment. Just comfort.
These aren’t things that look Pinterest-perfect. But they feel like kindness. And that’s the kind of care that matters most.
Here are just a few unglamorous acts of care that deserve a gold star:
• Ordering takeout because the idea of cooking makes you want to cry
• Wearing the same soft hoodie three days in a row because it feels safe
• Scheduling the dentist appointment you’ve been avoiding since 2020
• Choosing rest over revenge productivity
• Letting go of the guilt that tells you rest must be earned
There’s no gold medal for pushing through burnout. You don’t get a trophy for hiding your exhaustion under a cute outfit. But you do get a better relationship with yourself when you start listening to what you actually need.
So today, maybe your version of self-care isn’t cute. Maybe it’s messy. Maybe it’s showing up for yourself in the smallest way.
And that, babe, is more than enough.
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