Self-care as a social movement started in the late 70s as a response to the lack of accessible health care for underprivileged groups, and it tackled both medical and political issues. As writer and civil rights activist Audre Lorde explains it, self-care was born as a way of survival in a society which enforced the idea that certain people don’t matter. In that political climate, self-care reaffirmed, healed, and fueled individuals to continue their work of rioting against oppressive systems and strengthening communities.
Today, a lot of said “self-care” is only accessible through self-funding– targeting groups of people that view it as an almost unaffordable luxury. This is due to the fact that we are surrounded by an imagery that is reliant on self-indulgent material items or self-care tips on how to deal with crippling anxiety, coming from unqualified people hiding behind pre-made Canva infographics.
Emily Oberg, founder of Sporty & Rich, is a clear example of how blind one can be regarding their privilege while trying to promote a healthy lifestyle. If the elitism in her brand wasn’t clear enough from the name, the founder of Sporty&Rich Wellness Club– also an Instagram mood-board page–sparked controversy earlier last year amidst the pandemic by comparing the prices of fresh food to unhealthy food, stating that “You don’t need to be rich to be healthy” while completely unfazed by the existence of food deserts or the lack of time to prepare food from scratch many need to face daily.
This goes to show that Health is Wealth as much as Wealth is Health.
The reason why brands like S&R thrive is not because of their products, but rather the sense of identity they provide to a specific target of people through the image they portray. This conformity becomes alarming when it comes from a place where we genuinely believe that we are individuals expressing ourselves.
Truth is, we have allowed ourselves to be used as consumers, acting out of our innate desire to be identifiable by others even through something as personal as self-care, an act intended to be only for our own wellness and not displayed for others to see.
So, what is self-care in its original meaning? Because let’s be clear, it does not mean drinking one more glass of wine on a weekday or binge-watching Netflix’s latest drama. Both of these activities are valid and definitely a fun distraction (not a solution!) for momentary relief, but they don’t need to be justified as “self-care” in order to not let us feel guilty about it.