Reader,
It’s impossible to be good at something you haven’t defined for yourself.
There’s quite a bit of pre-requisite work that needs to happen before you can fully be “good” at self care, and you can’t be upset about the results you didn’t get, from the work you didn’t do.
I recently read an article by a writer I admire. He shared how he’s never been good at self-care—how suggestions like “just meditate” would make him roll his eyes before moving on with his day. I’ve been there too, stuck in that same mindset, because, like so many of us, I was relying on someone else’s definition of self-care to shape my own.
Why do we keep putting on someone else’s prescription glasses and expecting to see clearly?
So, let’s tackle this self-care dilemma. By the end of this letter, I hope you’ll have a clearer idea of what self-care can look like for you. Maybe then, the eye-rolling and excuse-making can finally be put to rest.
Saying no or going against the grain is hard. In fact, it’s the default mechanism of the brain to first lean into why something won’t work for us vs slowing slowing down long enough to figure out how it could (and yes, I'm actually studying this as we speak). It’s why we resist change—because it often means challenging not only our own beliefs but also the definitions others have imposed on us.
“Self-care,” as a phrase and a movement, has become so charged and overused that it either evokes a sigh of relief or an audible scoff. Social media hasn’t helped. It’s built this glossy, unattainable, and often inauthentic image of what self-care is supposed to look like. I don’t know about you, but a “spa day” isn’t going to erase a life of hard living, a rejection, losing a job etc. Nor should it, so we have to stop looking at self-care as a day off many of us can’t afford anyway.
My self-care will never look like your self-care. If you can, repeat that to yourself, say it to a friend, jot it down in your notebook.
So let’s start by doing the prerequisite work most people skip. Take a good look at yourself and your life. What actually relaxes you? What truly stresses you out? How do you navigate that stress? Self-care has to be built around that—your reality, not someone else’s idea of it.
When I think “I need a bit of self care right now” here’s an example of some of things that might make sense for me:
- turning my phone off and cancelling the day’s meetings (and being honest about my reason, not making something up). This makes sense for me because my work involves being an screen or in front of a screen for 10 hours a day.
- Not cooking for my family (I love cooking but deciding WHAT to cook takes mental energy so some days I just need a break from that).
- Extending a deliverable deadline for a client.
- Decluttering and cleaning (now this definitely won’t count as self care for 96 percent of the people I know, but for me, it is!)
- Looking over my personal development spreadsheet.
- Moving OUT Of drafting and back into unstructured play to give my brain a break.
- Suggesting to my publicist that I do more writing to promote my book instead of in-person events.
And while we’re at it, let’s address something deeper: as writers, we need to start verbally valuing the emotional work of our craft. Writing isn’t just sitting at a laptop, jotting down words, and attending fancy events. It’s messy, soul-deep, often invisible labour. If you don’t vocalize this reality—if you don’t actively challenge the clichéd image of the “glamorous writer”—then when you finally figure out what self-care looks like for you, the people around you might not understand why you need it.
Self-care, for me, takes on many shapes and forms, but at its core, it’s about boundaries. And those boundaries aren’t static. I evaluate and refine them seasonally because saying no with love takes skill, strategy, trust (which means being vulnerable), and a deep understanding of what I’m protecting and why, and the cost of not protecting it.
I do this work over and over and over and over because sometimes, the prescription for my own glasses needs to change.
The truth is, self-care is the writer’s burden—and it should be. We carry the weight of our stories, our truths, and the emotional labour that comes with it. But if we don’t take the time to define self-care for ourselves, we’ll only ever see it as something abstract, unattainable, or misaligned with who we are.
When you define self-care for yourself, you’ll know what to ask for, when to ask, and from whom. You’ll learn to see it not as a luxury but as an essential part of your creative life.
Reflective Question: What does self-care look like when it’s designed specifically for my life, my stressors, and my creative work, rather than shaped by external expectations or clichés?
with love,
Chelene
As always, if you know of a friend who could benefit from reading this weekly share, please forward share. I want these personal shares within the Say No With Love Newsletter to reach the right people : )
