“Self Care” Isn’t the Solution: a Conversation with Myself.

Or, the Insidious Soullessness of So-Called “Self Care”

Current “self care” rituals put corporate serial killer Patrick Bateman to shame.

Self care is obviously integral to our wellbeing. A world without such a value would be much less hygienic and well-adjusted. However, it is undeniable that “self care” has taken on a navel-gazing, performative quality that characterizes Gen Z’s peculiar brand of self-obsession. Despite being hidden under a seemingly harmless (and thin) veneer of “self love❤:),” “self care” as an epidemic—ah hem—movement, has become something superficial and selfish.

Some of you may be skeptical of my point. So let me anticipate a hypothetical rebuttal, graciously provided to us by my own subconscious:

I know you just provided a slick opening caveat to get me off your back, but it didn’t work. How can self care be a bad thing?

There’s self care, and then there’s “self care.”

Stop being such an Aquarius rising. Its not that deep! Who are YOU to judge people’s coping mechanisms?

C’mon me, you of all people know that “judging” is a harsh word. I am guilty too. I just happen to be a a hyper-observant contrarian who gets a kick out of being cynical. Mix these traits with a proclivity for pretentious-ness, written eloquence, and a nerdy itch to perfect my rhetorical strategy, and you have this blog. This is merely a well-intentioned observation. Trust me, I am not happy to be the bearer of bad news either.

You avoided the whole point of what I just said. You’ll be a master rhetorician in no time. I was saying it’s simply not that serious to like lighthearted fun stuff. Who carreeees.

You say “who cares” because it appears to be all in good fun. I contend it is all the more insidious for its apparent innocence, a tackier Trojan horse.

Yeah, seeing what you meant about the “proclivity for pretentious-ness.”

It’s a good analogy though, the Trojans were serving something greater than themselves — their country! And the alliteration made it irresistible.

You’re so condescending of modernity. You act like the past was some idyllic time. The Trojan’s fought for the right of an impulsive boy prince to steal someone else’s bride. But you completely neglected that part, of course. I never thought the day would come when you would so blindly defend patriotism. Its like I don’t even know you anymore. And would the “self care” you’re complaining about be less tacky if we were treating ourselves to esoteric finds from the ancient spice trade instead of Shein, you snob? Oh, and just because things sound nice when you say them doesn’t make them true—

Alright subconscious, that’s quite enough from you for now. Let me proceed and let us see if we agree by the end of this post, we’re wasting the readers’ time.

In case there is still some confusion about what I mean by my sarcastic usage of “self care,” which after my unsuccessful talk with myself I think there is, allow the following media to demonstrate what that Platonic interlude perhaps did not:

“Self care” takes on a performative, aesthetic quality rather than being relegated to a dignified, private endeavor. This calls into question its authenticity. Since posting Lamborghini's is tacky now, has self care become the new flex? Do we seek healing for its own sake or to share our progress with our followers? Can these two concepts coexist?

The virality of therapy-speak phrases such as “protect your peace” have sparked many heated internet debates between the ghostee and the ghoster. The former group claims that they are owed an apology, while the latter argues providing such a thing and taking accountability is a mentally draining process that violates their “boundaries.” Honestly, those in defense of ghosting may have a point. I prefer a ghost than whatever HR nonsense occured in this tweet.

Are you beginning to see what I mean?

Are these surface level things self-care tells us to seek really making us happy? How much depth does this movement really have? Are we merely repeating “growth”-related vernacular in a vapid attempt to present ourselves as being deep without really processing the meanings of these virtues?

Let’s check back in with myself. Me, back to you!

Finally. I hate when you cut me off like that. Gen Z’s brand of self care is not vapid! It’s an anarchist rejection of the internalized capitalistic system that has convinced us to run ourselves ragged for so long.

Blah blah blah.

Not very eloquent of you.

Let me be dismissive and colloquial for just once, I BEG. My brain hurts from reading that jargon-fodder.

“Self care” is a manifestation of a capitalistic fad. It convinces people if only they have the perfect vegan gluten free organic free range pescatarian paleo low carb diet, biweekly therapy sessions, a thirteen-step skin care routine, a library full of self care books, a playlist of self help podcasts, an aesthetically pleasing wardrobe they can only afford by maxing out their after pay limit, and a life so instagrammable they forget what that moment looked like through their own eyes and not through the lens of their brand new IPhone 1000, then they are adequately “caring for” themselves.

Were you not exhausted reading that—an excerpt from what could be a much lengthier list? Is maintaining all of this “self care” not the same as working oneself to the bone? Not even Patrick Bateman put this much effort into himself.

…

Do you not see how this constant inundation of increasingly elaborate, and conveniently monetizeable, self care rituals precisely upholds the soulless corporate culture you claim they help us to recover from? We are sold extraneous pretenses of self-improvement, and must buy the tools rather than foster them inside of ourselves.

Fine. You take this round. I need a cup of tea, and to rewatch American Psycho. Care to join?

On that we can agree.