Self-Care Isn’t Selfish—It’s Survival

How’s your self care? We’ve been conditioned to wear exhaustion like a badge of honor. To hustle harder. To give endlessly. But what happens when your giving cup runs dry? What happens when survival demands more than showing up—it demands slowing down?

It’s time we dismantle the myth that self-care is indulgent. In truth, self-care is survival wrapped in intention. And it’s one of the most radical acts of preservation we have.

The Myth of “Doing It All”

There’s a quiet pressure many of us carry—to be everything for everyone. To be strong without showing strain. llso to serve without seeking help.  Work on showing up to sparkle even when you feel spent. We internalize this as strength, but it’s a slow erosion.

When we deny ourselves rest, we teach others that our needs are secondary. When we glorify burnout, we normalize self-abandonment. And when we celebrate only the hustle, we forget that stillness is sacred too.  Real strength? It lives in the pause.

What Self-Care Really Looks Like

Forget the bubble baths and overpriced candles—although if that’s your jam, embrace it fully. But true self-care is deeper. It’s the boundary you set when your soul whispers “no.” Also It’s the meal you nourish yourself with when life gets busy. Logging off, leaning out, and letting go of the belief that rest has to be earned.

Self-care is saying yes to rest, no to what drains you, and holding space for your own humanity. It’s not performative. It’s permission-giving. Also It’s a rebellion against depletion.

Rest as Resistance

For communities that have always carried more—emotionally, mentally, spiritually—rest is more than recovery. It’s resistance. It’s healing work.  In a culture obsessed with productivity, choosing rest is a radical act. It’s reclaiming time, energy, and breath. It’s choosing to exist without performance, to restore before collapse.

As Tricia Hersey of The Nap Ministry says: “Rest is resistance.” And for so many of us, it’s also how we recover our joy.

Survival With Intention and Self Care

Let’s tell the truth—self-care isn’t vanity. It’s preservation. It’s the audacity to believe your wellness matters. Not just your output, but your essence. Your glow, even when it’s quiet.  When you tend to yourself, you rewrite the narrative that your worth is tied to your usefulness. You remember that you’re worthy—not when you’re fixing, doing.

When you tend to yourself, you rewrite the narrative that your worth is tied to your usefulness. You remember that you’re worthy—not when you’re fixing, doing, or showing up for everyone else—but simply because you’re here.  That’s the heart of intentional survival.

From Guilt to Grace

If the guilt creeps in when you rest, pause, or protect your peace—you’re not alone. That guilt has roots. But guilt isn’t the truth. It’s just a leftover script in need of a rewrite.

Let’s write a new one: one where grace speaks louder than guilt. Where you’re not waiting until everything is done to treat yourself like someone who matters. Where your softness is sacred and your “no” is respected—first by you.  Start small. But start.

You Deserve the Pause

You are allowed to rest. To care deeply for yourself. To step away from the noise and into your own nurturing. Survival doesn’t always look like grinding through—it can look like slowing down, tuning in, and saying:  “I matter, too.”

Ways to practice Self Care and Intentionality

• Block time on your calendar that’s just for you—no explanations, no guilt. Whether it’s a morning stretch, an afternoon nap, or 15 minutes of quiet journaling, treat it like a sacred appointment. This helps shift rest from optional to non-negotiable.

• We’re all good at to-do lists, but what about a don’t do list? Name the energy-draining habits or obligations you can release—overcommitting, doom-scrolling, answering emails after hours. Each removal is an act of reclaiming space.

• Instead of saying “I should be doing more,” try “I choose what nourishes me today.” This simple language shift reinforces that care is a decision, not a debt. It reframes your narrative as empowered rather than pressured.

• Build a small physical reminder of your worth: calming scents, warm socks, affirmations you’ve written, a playlist that grounds you. It doesn’t have to be elaborate—just intentional. When the world feels loud, it becomes a tool for returning to self.

• You don’t need a PowerPoint presentation to justify rest. Practice saying “No, thank you” or “That doesn’t align right now” and leaving it at that. The more you make peace with no, the more you honor your own yes.