What Even Is Self-Care?

Every year in graduate school, our class created sweatshirts. One year, a light gray sweatshirt with the words “Self Care” in bubbly red lettering was sold. I liked the design, and I was a huge fan of self-care, so I bought the sweatshirt. 

Was buying the sweatshirt an act of self-care? And what, exactly, is one of the most talked-about concepts in the mental health world really about?

As a therapist, I live in and explore the gray areas of life. There are very few things I am 100% certain about. However, I am completely certain that buying the sweatshirt was not an act of self-care for myself. 

The sweatshirt is comfortable. It’s cute. I can style it in lots of different ways. But, if I didn’t own it, I’d have plenty of others to wear. And I have far more meaningful mementos from my time in graduate school. Just wearing the sweatshirt itself isn’t an act of self-care.

However, I’ve found something interesting about owning a piece of clothing that has the words “Self Care” emblazoned on it: I wear it while engaging in my favorite forms of self-care, like yoga. So no, the sweatshirt itself is not self-care, nor was purchasing it. But it does serve an important utility in my own self-care routine. When I wear it, I’m more likely to embody caring for myself. 

Over time, in my own life and in my work with clients, I’ve come to understand self-care as something deeper than a temporary comfort, an easy distraction from life, or a consumable.

Real self-care supports our wellbeing across time. It helps us feel more grounded, connected, compassionate toward ourselves, and resourced rather than depleted. The rest of this article explores a few ways I help clients differentiate what self-care means to them. 

Consumerism of “Self Care”

Somewhere along the way, the idea of self-care was reshaped by the pervasive consumer culture we find ourselves locked in. What originally spoke to rest, recovery, and emotional healing became something we could buy: candles, face masks, productivity planners, spa days, wellness journals. Don’t get me wrong—none of those things are inherently bad. 

The distortion happens when self-care becomes framed as consumption or for the sole use of self-improvement. The message shifts from caring for our inner self to polishing the exterior. We see this especially in productivity-framed self-care: sleep so you can work better, meditate so you can focus longer, set boundaries so you can be more efficient. The underlying subtext becomes, “take care of yourself… so you can keep performing.”

But this isn’t the kind of self-care I’m talking about. Real self-care is not about something easily purchased or “treating yourself” into feeling better. It isn’t about upgrading, optimizing, or perfecting the self. The garden of self-care I cultivate is about creating space for deep rest, soul nourishment, and emotional resilience.

Sometimes self-care looks like a difficult therapy session or rest when there are a million things on a to do list. Sometimes it looks like choosing to call a friend over scrolling Insta. It can even look like doing something that brings no measurable productivity benefit at all, yet reminds us that we are human and worthy of care, simply because we exist.

Nourishment or numbing?

When I’m discerning what counts as self-care versus what doesn’t, I ask a simple question: does this bring nourishment or numbing? Self-care nourishes the soul in a way that numbing cannot. It nourishes us beyond immediate relief and supports inner strength and resolve. This might look like time in nature, creative expression, therapy, or investing in relationships that sustain us. It might also look like saying no to something that depletes you, or allowing yourself to feel difficult emotions rather than pushing them away. Numbing helps us get through the moment. Nourishment helps us connect to the moments beyond this one.

A useful skill I help my clients cultivate is reflection. As an example, if someone were to take a nap and wake up feeling refreshed while having a greater capacity for the rest of the day, then that could be genuine self-care for them. However, if a person wakes up feeling worse than they did before or has difficulty sleeping in the evening due to the nap, it's worth reconsidering whether the nap was self-care, or an attempt to numb. 

Relational Self-Care

Relational self-care is often talked about in rather vague ways. You’ll often hear advice like “set a boundary with them!” or “just say no!”, which in theory sounds great. In reality, it’s quite a bit more difficult.

I work from a relational perspective, which means that a big portion of the work with my clients focuses on our relationship. I like to tell clients that what’s happening between us is often happening outside in other relationships as well. I find myself working with clients on what boundaries truly mean, how they show up in our relationship, how to apply them outside of the therapy room, and why boundaries can be so difficult to hold.

One of the most important things I help clients understand is that boundaries aren't about controlling other people; they're about our own actions. A boundary isn't "you need to stop calling me so much." A boundary is "I'm not available to talk on the phone after 9pm" or "I can't take on another project right now." The difference is subtle but significant: one tries to change someone else's behavior, while the other clarifies what we can and cannot do.

In my work with clients, I've noticed that the people who struggle most with boundaries often struggle with the belief that their needs matter. They worry that setting a boundary means they're being mean, difficult, or uncaring. But boundaries, when done well, are actually an act of care, both for ourselves and for our relationships. Relational self-care asks us to tend to our connections while also tending to ourselves. It's not always comfortable, but it's essential.

The Pressure of Self-Care

There are also times when “self-care” becomes another form of self-pressure. It turns into a checklist of things we’re supposed to do in order to become calmer, healthier, better versions of ourselves. Instead of care, it becomes performance: drink enough water, meditate, journal, stretch, read, optimize. When that happens, self-care stops being supportive and begins to mirror the same perfectionism or anxiety we were trying to soothe in the first place. If your self-care leaves you feeling guilty, behind, or not-enough, it may have shifted from compassion into expectation. True self care leaves you having more in your cup, not less.

Conclusion

Real self-care isn’t glamorous, productive, or aesthetic most of the time. It’s intentional, grounded, and honest. It invites us to ask harder questions: What do I need right now? What hurts? What feels meaningful? Where do I need support? It invites us back into relationship: with ourselves, with our histories, our bodies, and with the people who walk alongside us. And often, it requires courage. Courage to rest, to feel, to set limits, to connect, or to receive care when that feels vulnerable.

If you’re wrestling with what self-care means in your own life, or you’ve found yourself stuck between numbing, pressure, and exhaustion, therapy can be a space to explore this with compassion and depth. If you’d like support in redefining self-care in a way that feels meaningful and sustainable, I’d be honored to walk alongside you. Reach out today to schedule a free consultation.