Post-wellness self-care: how do you *really* take care of yourself?
From fancy masks to simple joys: doing what innately feels good
If you’ve been following me since the Lee From America days, you’re well aware of the many ways I took care of myself back then. It was all carefully documented in that unmistakable 2017 VSCO aesthetic—think bright, blue spirulina face masks, flower-filled baths, herbal lattes, feminist planners, and handstands.
I want to be clear; none of these things are inherently wrong. At all. I still love baths. I still do yoga, love an herbal latte every once and a while. (Did I say I love baths? I really do. Instant calm.)
The self-care you see in the collage above reflects a time when I was deeply caught up in performance. My brand had become synonymous with self-care—for better or worse. I was so busy showcasing self-care daily for the ’gram that I rarely experienced the actual benefits. Each day became a ritual of displaying wellness for the world, getting further and further away from myself. But I won’t go too much into that, it’s for the book!!!!!
I’ve since taken a break from social and come back to myself in more ways than one. Instagram, if you let it, can take you away from yourself, wholly and completely.
When I scroll through Instagram nowadays, I see that not much has changed. Self-care has become even more commercialized than it was in 2017. There are whole self-care accounts that rip through products, one after the other, insisting that you need to have a million things to feel good. (Though, some admittedly do inspire me). There are people trying to sell me toners, serums, face masks, face wash, botanical lip masks, red light therapy, relax pills, aromatic pajamas (actually those do sound interesting?).
Without daily internal grounding, I can fall into the trap of thinking the following…
I need to live in a mountain town with zero noise decibels to be my healthiest.
OMG, I’m not touching enough grass!
Life would just be easier if I lived in (insert remote rural area here).
Wow, I haven’t eaten a single squash this season. I’m not in-tune enough.
Why can’t I remember to oil my cuticles? And my toe cuticles!
Should I be doing pilates. I should, right?!
Self-care has just become one more thing that women have added to their never-ending to-do list. Okay, so now I have to have a job, go to the gym, get fresh air, tend to my relationship, read, have a hobby, and relax?
Cortisol, nervous system, blood sugar levels, celery juice, yoga, sea moss—these words we now associate with the wellness movement. They’ve become almost buzzwords.
But after the buzz dies down, I’ve been dying to know: what’s next? What will we do when we finally collapse into ourselves and realize that the pursuit of living well looks different for everyone, that our definition of wellness will (and should) evolve as we do? What happens when what we thought was “wellness” collapses, and only our purest self remains? That thing we were trying so desperately to fix in the first place? Wherever you go, there you are—it can be a crushing realization; lonely, empty—but I promise, you will fill your cup back up again. And what you fill it with will be so much more stable, pure and true to YOU.
When we let go of all the expectations, the consumerist-driven wellness approach, clear our slate, and slowly re-incorporate only what truly works for us, we create a post-wellness routine that feels real, grounded, and sustainable. I call this practice of quieting trends and listening deeply to yourself, of coming back to who you are and what you genuinely need—post-wellness.
I’ve been dying to know, what’s next? What will we do when we finally collapse into ourselves and realize that the pursuit of living well looks different for everyone, that our definition of wellness will (and should) change as we change?
I brought up the term post-wellness to
when we were discussing the seamless segue from health influencers to skinfluencers and since then, I’ve been thinking about what it means to take care of yourself, away from the algorithm. The reason you might not see this type of self-care on Instagram is simply because it doesn’t sell a product. It’s an intangible feeling. No link to buy.One person, guru, influencer or celebrity couldn’t possibly promise that one “thing” will cure everyone. But in today’s fast-paced world, it’s all too easy to ignore ourselves and feel lost in the sauce.
But when we get down to the root of the self-care movement, we are all desiring the same thing:
A moment to ourselves.
A slice of presence.
A piece of gratitude.
Slowing down, savoring life. (Or maybe for you, it’s speeding up!)
Recharging our batteries.
To me, post-wellness self-care moves away from the flashy wellness of the 2010’s. It’s slower, softer. It’s sometimes uncomfortable. And it’s sure as hell not always sexy or Instagrammable.
Here are the ways I incorporate “wellness” into my life nowadays, on the quieter side, healed from the constant content-creation machine, (and only creating content because it brings me joy - which it does, or I wouldn’t be writing this newsletter.)
The list below is for paid subscribers only. This costs $5 a month or $50 a year, and you will get at least one, sometimes 2 or 3, posts per month, delivered straight to your inbox. These may be lists, essays, ideas, recipes, or my advice column, Dear Lee! (Submit a question here!)