Self Care: Winging it Since ’06

No, I am not eleven years old, born in 2006. I just didn’t include the years of my life that I was a young’in and didn’t have a damn clue what self care was because my mom took care of that for me.


Nowadays my feed is full of #SelfCareSundays or calming bubble bath Insta squares. Which are both beautiful and aesthetically pleasing although I’m not sure how people’s legs look that damn good in the tub from such a weird angle but IT’S FINE.

There is a massive market for self care that includes charcoal teeth whitening, peeling foot masks, bubbling face masks, and the like. And then there is the food/teas/vitamins that are also somehow classified as “self care” despite their rigorous social media efforts that reek of a pyramid scheme. But I digress…

The point is, there are tonnes of options out there that appear to help a lot of people and that’s great. But I AM troubled by the fact that I have yet to find one of these methods that works for me (because I am self-obsessed, obviously). A massive factor in this is that this is a VERY profitable industry, which means there are lots of players looking to make a buck. I, being a cheap (thrifty?) lil B, frequently find myself gravitating towards the cheapest option. However the cheapest option is also usually the ones that make those terribly painful-looking videos on Facebook where the charcoal mask is actually black glue and while it probably does pull out some blackheads it also may cause some of your face skin to be removed. So now I’ve begun to look for more options.

It’s important to say here that I do realize self care is more that taking care of your physical, outer shell well-being, and also definitely includes your mental and emotional well-being too. But if a bath bomb from LUSH can make me smell like your grandmother’s garden AND calm me down after a long day, then I’m two birds with one stoning this bitch, all while watching the new episode of Riverdale SO THERE.

While I think there are certainly some things we all do that classify as “self care” (sleeping in, long hot showers, rage-crying at 13 Reasons Why) it’s important to note that everyone does it differently.

So while you’re spending your dolla dolla bills on some wild bubble mask, I’ll be over here with the cheapest wine I can buy (or steal from my parent’s house), eating peanut butter from a spoon and STILL calling it self care.

Wingin’ it, as usual.



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