The Myth of Self-Care

Dearest Reader,

What if I told you that self-care is a myth? That the way we think about it is all wrong.

What if I told you that you do not need more self-care in your life? That the problem is deeper than that. That self-care is being used as a scapegoat. What if I told you that a lack of self-care is not the problem? That instead, life is out of balance, that there are too many withdrawals and not enough deposits in your emotional bank account. What if I told you that we have been conditioned to give all the good away? That we don’t hold on to enough for ourselves.

This is the journey I set out on in 2020 during the early days of COVID and lockdown. I began searching for some new ways to self-care, for myself and my clients. Yet none of what I found seemed to be enough to help with the stress of those uncertain days. My searching led me down unexpected paths and to unknown places, and what I found was that the way we think of self-care is all wrong. Self-care as we know it is a myth.

The problem with self-care

The problem with self-care is we are usually looking to it to save us once we are already in a place of depletion. The problem with self-care is that it often adds more to our To Do list. The problem with self-care is that it gaslights the real issue at hand. What if the problem is not that we do not have enough self-care strategies but in the way that we are living. That our relationships are imbalanced. That our work lives are unhealthy. That we give all of our good away and do not save any for ourselves.

Doing “too much”

I had this pattern of doing too much - being too available, giving too much, saying yes when I wanted to say no. I thought that if I showed up for others, I would get my needs met in return and that my relationships would be nourishing. I also believed that self-sacrifice made me a “good person.” As a result, I was frequently burned out. In reality, my needs were not being met, and many of my relationships felt one-sided and shallow. I was scrambling to do as much self-care as I could fit in my schedule. Exercise classes, journaling, reading, facials, hobbies. I used travel and vacation as a way to cope with my burnout, as many as I could afford to schedule. It often took a week away. I would get away from my work and responsibilities and start to get filled back up. A little each day. The first few days would be decompression, and the remaining time would be enjoyable. My cup would be fuller by the time the trip was over.

The problem with this pattern was that I would return home and overwork myself on the first day. I would over-commit in my efforts to meet the needs of others. Within a matter of days, I would be depleted all over again, and hanging on by my fingernails for my next vacation. The gains from my vacation were instantly gone.

Giving all the good away

When the COVID pandemic came, it disrupted all my coping strategies. In a moment’s notice, there was no travel. There were no gyms. No facials. Many of the ways I coped with my life were shut down, in lockdown with me. I was frantic in moments and headed in to a very deep burnout.  One day, my therapist said “You’re giving all the good away. You take a vacation and begin to enjoy yourself and soak up some good for yourself. But then you return home and give it all away.” I had never considered this. I never knew or thought I could save some good for myself. I never knew this was an option. Chalk it up to my religious upbringing and my codependent family of origin. I had been living a life of perpetual depletion, and my therapists’ words were inviting me into a world that I did not know existed.

Isn’t there more to this?

I’ve been examining self-care for 5 years now. Taking it apart, looking closely, asking controversial questions. When the pandemic hit, most of my self-care strategies went out the window. The same was true for my clients, and I could feel their desperation as they asked “What do I do now? How do I cope with all this stress?” I read all the books I could find on self-care. But here’s the thing, the answers fell short. The suggestions, written by well meaning therapists, suggested putting a sentimental object on your desk to look at, or taking deep breaths, or swinging your body around several times throughout your work day. These ideas seemed ludicrous in the face of the enormous stress and despair of the pandemic. I questioned “Isn’t there more to this?”

The problem with gaslighting

Over the twenty five years of working in the mental health field, I have attended numerous conferences where self-care was discussed. I have read books and talked with other practitioners. I have searched for ways to engage in “good self-care behavior.” But now I believe that it’s a smokescreen, diverting our attention from the real problem at hand. I think we are all being gaslit. It is not our lack of self-care strategies that is the problem. It is the ways in which we are living and working that is the problem. The ways in which we are asked, demanded even, to give more, to do more. The ways in which we are expected to set goals, achieve milestones, and hustle for more. It is the systems that we live and work in that are the problem. Yes, there is nothing inherently wrong with any of the self-care suggestions. They are even healthy behaviors in their own right. The problem is when we are dying at work, when we are in soul-crushing relationships, thinking that if we do enough self-care, it will counterbalance the harm. As if it is okay to be constantly depleted and then looking to self-care to patch the hole.

Going gentler and slower

As a therapist, I am implored to engage in self-care. It is part of the ethics code, suggesting that if I am not engaging in self-care, I am practicing in an unethical manner. Yet what is lacking from the discussion is the way that being a therapist takes a toll on the highly sensitive, empathic therapist. Instead, what is suggested is to have a toolbox of tasks and mechanisms to shift the energy inside of us, and when these strategies do not work, we often feel filled with shame as if we are the problem. The problem is actually in the field, in the way we are expected to work. What if we went gentler and slower, instead of hanging on by our fingernails and expecting self-care to remediate the toll of the work? What if we hustled less and lived more? What if we cared for ourselves first, and then our clients and jobs second? The same is true for the highly sensitive, deeply empathic people that I know and work with. They are often in cycles of depletion, wondering why they cannot do more, why they frequently feel resentful and exhausted.

I find myself asking more questions these days. What if there is a better way? What if we fix the systems that caused burnout? What if we work and live differently, in a way that does not cause depletion? What if we hustle less? What if we listen to our bodies and pay attention to its messages, the way it speaks to us? What if we are as kind to ourselves as we are to others?

Thank you for joining me, dear reader, as we set forth on this path together. I’m glad you’re here!

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