Why Your Self-Care Routine Needs a Reality Check (And Less Pinterest)
By Sophie — I'm not your therapist, but I'll listen like one. No judgment, just honest space. ·
It’s October, and You’re Probably Tired
There’s something about October in Brooklyn that feels like a collective exhale—or maybe it’s just the sudden drop in temperature making us all want to crawl back into bed. I spent the morning at a coffee shop in Williamsburg, watching people frantically typing on laptops, and I felt that familiar twinge of empathy. We’re deep into the year, the "back-to-school" energy of September has worn off, and most of us are running on fumes.
I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting on the phrase "self-care routine." It’s become such a sanitized, aesthetic term, hasn’t it? It’s all jade rollers, lavender-scented candles, and perfectly curated matcha lattes. And while there’s nothing inherently wrong with those things, I think we’ve lost the plot. We’ve turned self-care into another item on our to-do list—another performance to get right.
When I was doing clinical research back at NYU, I spent a lot of time looking at how people actually cope versus how they think they should cope. The gap between those two things is where the anxiety lives. If your self-care routine feels like a chore, you aren’t caring for yourself; you’re just adding a layer of "shoulds" to an already heavy existence.
Rethinking the 'Routine' Part
The word "routine" implies consistency, discipline, and, quite frankly, a level of robot-like efficiency that most of us don’t possess. I have anxiety. My dad and I have spent years navigating a relationship that is, let’s call it, 'structurally complex.' Some days, my self-care is a 20-minute guided meditation. Other days, it’s literally just making sure I eat a meal that isn’t a handful of almonds while I’m standing over the kitchen sink.
True self-care isn’t about building a lifestyle brand; it’s about nervous system regulation. It’s about asking yourself, in any given moment: What does my body actually need right now to feel safe? Sometimes the answer is movement. Sometimes it’s absolute stillness. And sometimes, it’s just crying for ten minutes because the world feels a bit too loud.
Practical Ways to Reclaim Your Space
If you want to build a routine that actually supports you—not one you have to report back on—try starting with these three shifts.
1. The 'Low-Bar' Baseline Choose one, and only one, thing that you do for yourself regardless of how chaotic life gets. For me, it’s washing my face with cold water and changing into clean pajamas. It sounds small, but it’s a sensory signal to my brain that the day is shifting. Don’t make it an hour-long ordeal. Make it something you can do when you’re at your absolute worst.
2. The 'Energy Audit' Instead of a To-Do List Instead of listing what you need to get done, list what drains you and what replenishes you. If you realize that checking your email the second you wake up is a major drain, change that one variable. You don’t need a 5:00 AM wellness regimen; you just need to stop the leaks in your energy bucket.
3. Permission to Be 'Unproductive' We live in a culture that treats rest as a reward for productivity. I’m asking you to flip that. Rest is the fuel, not the prize. If you feel like you’re failing at self-care, ask yourself if you’re trying to use it as a tool to become more productive. If the answer is yes, you’re not practicing self-care; you’re practicing self-optimization. Stop it. Let yourself be bored. Let yourself sit on the couch and stare at the wall. That is human.
You Are the Expert on You
I’m 29, I’m in therapy, and I still have days where I feel like I’m barely keeping my head above water. The difference now is that I don’t beat myself up for it. I know that the 'perfect' routine is a myth designed to sell us things.
Your self-care routine shouldn’t look like mine. It shouldn’t look like your favorite influencer’s, either. It should be a quiet, private dialogue between you and your needs. If your routine feels heavy, drop it. Start smaller. Start with whatever feels like an act of kindness rather than an obligation.
I’m not here to tell you how to live your life—I’m just here to hold the space while you figure out what works for you. If you’re feeling the October burnout, know that you’re not alone, and you’re allowed to just exist for a while. No performance necessary.
How does your current routine feel? Does it give you life, or does it feel like another meeting you have to attend? I’d love to hear your honest thoughts. Leave a comment below or send me a message—I’m listening.