The Role of Privilege in Self-Care

I made another "self-care" shopping haul a few weekends ago. I've been shopping for myself a lot more recently, buying things I don't really need, like neon green nail polish, Dairy Queen blizzards, more nail polish, and recently, a new brush, glitter hair elastics, and pens.

(The nap t-shirts are gifts for friends.)

Did I need this stuff? No. Did this stuff make me feel better? Slightly. To be honest, it's kind of a rebellious response to all the years that I spent denying myself "extras" because I didn't "deserve them," and sometimes, just because I didn't have the money. Now I have resources, and I'm using them.

As I've thought about my recent splurges, though, I've thought of the privilege involved in them. I'm a single, white woman blessed with a good job that pays good money and awesome parents that allow me to live with them for cheap rent. Were I an unemployed woman, a woman without the privilege of education, a woman without a good job, or even just a resident of a different geographic location, I might not have money to spare. I might be living hand to mouth, or even relying on community resources like food banks and church pantries to put food in my mouth. Were I a single mother, I might not have time to spare for self-care. My point is that self-care is a privilege, one I am grateful for, but not one that everyone has.

Self-care is all the rage right now, and sometimes I think I judge people who don't practice it. (Forgive me.) But what if those people legitimately can't care for themselves right now? What if they're just surviving? What if they're expending all their time and energy and resources to care for others? That's to be valued, too.

Self-care is care for self, and it's important. What self-care isn't is others judgement and self-aggrandizing. Let's watch out for that. Because ultimately the point of self-care isn't to be selfish, but to have energy to care for others, to care for those who might not be blessed with the same privileges we have.