Self-care isn’t selfish, alright? I’m typing this on my couch in Seattle, surrounded by empty takeout containers and a pile of mail I keep ignoring. I used to think self-care was for people with, like, actual free time or trust funds—y’know, those folks posting their green smoothies on X. But last month, I was such a wreck, running on Red Bull and four hours of sleep, that I legit forgot my own birthday. Yeah, 28 years old, and I’m out here forgetting my own birthday. I was sitting in a coffee shop, rain smacking the windows, when my coworker texted me “Happy bday!” and I just stared at my phone, like, “Wait, what?” That’s when I knew I needed to get my shit together.
Why I Used to Roll My Eyes at Self-Care
Real talk? I thought self-care was total BS. Growing up, my dad would’ve snorted if I said I needed “me-time.” He’d be like, “You wanna relax? Mow the lawn, that’s relaxing.” So I carried that vibe into my 20s, grinding through my job at this startup, thinking I could just power through. I’d see all these posts on X about personal well-being, with their fancy yoga retreats, and I’d mutter, “Must be nice.” But then I hit a wall. Hard. Like, I was so stressed I started losing my hair—found clumps in the shower, which is not the vibe.
That was my “oh crap” moment. I wasn’t just tired—I was falling apart. Self-care isn’t selfish when you’re literally shedding like a golden retriever.
My Totally Not-Instagram-Worthy Self-Care Attempts
So, I started small, ‘cause I’m not out here dropping $100 on spa days. I decided to take 10 minutes every morning to just, like, sit on my balcony and breathe. Sounds simple, right? Except half the time I’m distracted by my neighbor’s dog barking or the fact that I forgot to pay my electric bill. I also got this cheap notebook from Target—$3, score—and started scribbling my thoughts, like how I’m secretly convinced I’m gonna get fired every time I mess up a spreadsheet.
Here’s what I’ve figured out about taking care of yourself:
- It’s messy as hell. My self-care is sometimes just eating instant ramen so I don’t have to cook. And I’m cool with that.
- It’s gotta be your thing. My roommate swears by running, but I’d rather die than jog. I blast Chappell Roan and dance like an idiot in my kitchen instead.
- It feels weird at first. Saying no to plans still makes me feel like a jerk, but I’m getting better at it.
I stumbled across this article on Healthline that said self-care is about building habits that recharge you. It’s not one-size-fits-all, which was a relief, ‘cause I’m not about to start knitting or whatever.
Self-Care Isn’t Selfish When You’re a Better Human For It
Last week, I bailed on drinks with my friends—not ‘cause I didn’t wanna see them, but because I was done. I stayed home, wrapped in this ugly fleece blanket my mom got me, and rewatched New Girl while eating a whole bag of Goldfish crackers. I felt kinda guilty, like I was being a bad friend. But I texted them, said I needed a night to recharge, and they were like, “Girl, do you.” And you know what? The next day, I was actually present when we hung out, not just nodding while my brain screamed. Self-care isn’t selfish—it’s what lets me show up without wanting to yeet myself into the Puget Sound.
I’m still a work in progress, though. Like, I tried one of those mindfulness apps, and I got so annoyed by the dude’s voice that I threw my phone across the couch. It’s still got a cracked screen from that, oops.
My Hot Mess Tips for Taking Care of Yourself
I’m no expert—clearly—but here’s what I’ve learned, in case you’re also a disaster like me:
- Start tiny. Like, make your bed or drink water before you chug another energy drink. Baby steps.
- Say no and don’t die of guilt. I told my boss I couldn’t stay late last week, and I’m still employed, so… win?
- Find what works for you. For me, it’s dancing or writing dumb stuff in my notebook. Maybe you’re into gardening or true crime podcasts. Whatever.
- Cut yourself some slack. I still feel selfish sometimes, but I’m learning it’s okay to prioritize my mental health.
There’s this dope piece on Verywell Mind that says self-care is about small, consistent actions. It’s not a quick fix, which I kinda hate but also respect.
Okay, Let’s Wrap This Up
I’m not saying I’ve mastered this self-care thing. I’m still a hot mess, forgetting to pay bills and leaving dishes in the sink for, like, three days. But self-care isn’t selfish—it’s how I keep from totally losing it. It’s me admitting I’m not a superhero, just a human who needs a break sometimes. If I can figure out how to carve out a little me-time in my chaotic Seattle life, you can too.
