Self-Care Beyond Bubble Baths

For the strong one who knows eucalyptus oil isn’t enough

You can’t soak away burnout.

Lavender oil won’t fix what silence and suppression created.
Candles can set the mood, but they can't hold your boundaries.

The truth is, self-care isn’t always pretty.
It’s not always a Sunday reset with a playlist and a planner.
Sometimes, it’s silence with no productivity.
Sometimes, it’s sleep in the middle of the day.
Sometimes, it’s unlearning the lie that your value is tied to how much you can carry.

As a therapist, I tell my clients that real self-care isn’t what you post.
It’s what you protect.
It’s the boundary you set that makes someone uncomfortable.
It’s the moment you say, “I’m not available for that,” and mean it.
It’s choosing not to explain your “no” and refusing to internalize guilt when you don’t overextend.

If you’re the strong one, you already know how to show up. You know how to hold space for others, keep your composure, do what needs to be done — even when you’re unraveling on the inside.

But I have to ask you something.
Who holds you?
Who checks on you without a crisis?
When was the last time you told the truth about how you really feel?

If it’s hard to answer those questions, you’re not alone. But you’re also not broken. You’re responding to a system you didn’t create - one that rewards you for being dependable and punishes you the moment you need support.

So here’s your reminder: Self-care for the strong friend is about building a life where you are no longer required to shrink your needs in order to be loved.

Let’s talk about what that looks like in practice.

Tangible Steps for Real Self-Care

1. Schedule boundaries, not just massages.
You plan everything else - so plan your rest. Don’t wait for burnout to be the alarm clock.

2. Say no before you’re depleted.
Not after. Not once you’re bitter. Not when you’re already spiraling. Say it early. Let it be awkward. Let people adjust.

3. Ask for help in low-stakes moments.
You don’t have to wait until you’re on the floor to be deserving of support. Practice asking before you’re in crisis.

4. Take up space in your own story.
Speak in “I feel” instead of “I’m fine.” Your vulnerability isn’t a burden. It’s a bridge.

5. Replace performative self-care with restorative rituals.
A face mask might feel good, but calling a friend who sees you is nourishment. Start there.

And please hear this … rest isn’t a reward for surviving. It’s a right.
You don’t have to earn your rest by first breaking down.
You don’t have to be everything to everyone to be worthy of gentleness.

Let this be the season you give yourself permission to show up in softness.
Let this be the chapter where you name your limits with love.
Let this be the moment you stop confusing overfunctioning with purpose.

Answer this in the comments:

• Who benefits from you staying tired, silent, or overly responsible?

• What story are you telling yourself about what happens if you stop holding it all together?

• What would change in your life if you believed you were worthy of care, without a performance?

You're not too much. You're not too sensitive. You're not asking for too much. You're just not being met in the ways you need.

That can change.
And it starts with how you care for yourself - not just in theory, but in practice.

Not in the form of another scented candle.
But in the truth you speak.
In the rest you honor.
In the help you allow.
In the boundaries you stop apologizing for.

Self-care isn’t selfish.
It’s how the strong friend finally learns to be held.

~ Dr. Dionne Mahaffey is an organizational psychologist, licensed therapist, writer, professor, ex tech executive, and award-winning entrepreneur.