15-07-2025
Why it's time to give performative self-care a break
On a typical Sunday, 21-year-old Shazmeen Malik scrolls through Instagram and sees an endless stream of 'self-care" posts: clay masks, coffee runs, tropical getaways, bath bombs, and the ever-present mantra: 'treat yourself". For months, she followed the cues. Journaling every night, spending on wellness products, creating Pinterest-worthy routines. But instead of feeling restored, she felt hollow. 'I was doing everything the internet told me would make me feel better," says the Mumbai-based media student. 'But underneath it all, I still felt anxious and disconnected. It was like I was performing care, not living it."
In recent years, 'self-care" has undergone a dramatic transformation. Once a radical act of survival and resistance, especially for women, queer communities, and people of colour, it's now repackaged into a lifestyle trend dominated by aesthetics, indulgence, and commerce. Spa days, productivity planners and wellness kits are now dominating the cultural understanding of what it means to care for oneself. But beneath the surface of eucalyptus-scented mindfulness lies a harder question: What have we lost in turning self-care into a brand?
'To me, the real question is: What part of care can we truly offer ourselves, and what has been made inaccessible?" asks Manavi Khurana, founder and counselling psychologist at Karma Center for Counselling & Wellbeing, New Delhi. 'Self-care today is often packaged through glossy marketing and privilege. And when people can't meet those ideals, they feel guilt, as if struggling is a personal failure." Khurana's concern is echoed by Gurugram-based psychologist Shevantika Nanda. 'Self-care has been heavily distorted. It's associated with glamour, luxury, and exclusivity, making it feel out of reach for many. Worse, it's now used to justify avoidant behaviours," she warns. 'Choosing comfort over responsibility is often mislabelled as self-care, when in fact it may be escapism." This distortion isn't accidental. It's systemic.
'Capitalism has reshaped self-care into a product which is something to buy rather than something to practice," Khurana explains. 'This turns care into an individual responsibility, completely detached from social support systems. It implies if you can't afford a 10-step routine, you're failing at care."
WHEN YOU CONFUSE COMFORT WITH HEALING
Riya Batra, a 22-year-old design student from Delhi, knows this dissonance first-hand. 'I was obsessed with wellness rituals. Candles, yoga, playlists to 'romanticize' my life," she says. 'But I was bypassing the hard stuff such as grief, insecurity, burnout." Eventually, therapy forced her to confront a harsh truth: she had confused healing with pampering.
All three experts agree that this confusion can be deeply harmful. 'Not everything that brings someone into therapy should be 'healed,'" Khurana clarifies. 'Conditions like neurodivergence or queerness aren't problems to solve. And real healing isn't linear or pretty. It's complex, deeply personal, and often uncomfortable." Shahzeen Shivdasani, relationship expert and author, frames it differently: 'There's nothing wrong with rest or indulgence. But if you're using vacations and spa days to avoid your emotional work like trauma, fear, or attachment wounds—those rituals become Band-Aids. Healing means identifying the wound, not just covering it."
Today's wellness culture is full of people 'doing the right things" such as journaling, meditating, setting boundaries yet still feeling stuck. Why? 'Because they're doing it alone," says Khurana. 'Self-care has been framed as heroic solo work. But healing often happens in community, in vulnerability, in shared care." Nanda has seen the same pattern in clients. 'They do retreats, take time off, buy the right products, but nothing changes. What finally shifts things is realizing that self-care is not a performance. It's slow, consistent, unglamorous work like going to bed on time, cooking your own food, or calling a friend instead of scrolling." In other words, self-care isn't something you buy. It's something you build.
ACT OF RESISTANCE
Before it became a hashtag, self-care was political. Audre Lorde, a Black feminist living with cancer, famously described caring for herself as an act of resistance. It was about survival in a world that didn't care if she burned out. That original vision of self-care as a communal, defiant, and necessary act is something mental health professionals want to revive.
'For marginalized communities, care was never about candles," Nanda explains. 'It was about creating spaces to breathe, to grieve, to connect, and to resist systems of oppression. Self-care wasn't an escape. It was fuel for persistence." Khurana agrees. 'Care isn't about consumption. It's about preservation of spirit, of energy, of life itself. Especially for those navigating racism, queerphobia, and intergenerational trauma."
So, what does real self-care look like? According to the experts, real self-care is quiet, boring, and consistent. 'It's a practice of turning inward," says Khurana. 'Of showing up for yourself, not because it looks good on Instagram, but because it sustains you." Nanda adds: 'Ask yourself: Does this benefit my future self? Does it align with my values? Does it help me show up for what matters in my life?"
Malik is still figuring out her version of care. 'I've deleted Instagram from my phone. I've started cooking for myself, reaching out to friends, and letting go of routines that made me feel like a failure," she says. 'I still light candles but not to fix myself. Just to feel present." For her and others, self-care isn't about optimization or escape anymore. It's about staying sane in a world that won't slow down. Because when self-care is reduced to consumption, the burden of healing falls entirely on the individual when often, what we really need is each other.
FROM THE INSIDE OUT
Self-care is not about doing things that look good on social media. Real self-care is uncomfortable, consistent, and often invisible, say therapists whom Lounge spoke to. It involves:
Divya Naik is an independent writer based in Mumbai.
