Radical Self Care Is Still a Shit Show. I Have Six More Years of Proof.

Six years ago I wrote a blog post here about radical self care while I was standing in the middle of the wreckage it was describing. I was a year deep into burnout, saying yes to everything, and quietly furious at a calendar I had built with my own two hands. I reread that post recently and here is what struck me. I was right about almost everything. I just had no idea how long the work would take, or that the messy part was not a phase. It was the whole thing.

So let me update the record.

Real radical self care is still a shit show. It is still messy and not Instagram worthy. It is still saying yes and then saying no. It is still looking flaky and unreliable to people who benefited from you never checking in with yourself. It is still asking “who’s going to be over there?” before you accept an invite, because certain people’s energy remains, and I say this with love, deeply suspect. None of that has changed. What has changed is that I no longer apologize for any of it.

The cage is velvet. That’s why you stay.

Here is the language I did not have six years ago. Most of us are not trapped in lives we hate. We are trapped in lives we built, lined with things we are supposed to be grateful for. The good clients. The full calendar. The reputation for being the one who always shows up. I call it the Velvet Cage, and the reason it is so hard to leave is that it is comfortable, it is impressive from the outside, and you decorated it yourself.

This is why radical self care feels less like a spa day and more like a demolition project. You are not escaping someone else’s prison. You are dismantling something you constructed, promise by promise, yes by yes, in a headspace you did not realize was toxic until you got quiet enough to hear yourself think. That is the honest work. Understanding the role you personally played in creating the environment you are now constantly trying to escape from. Nobody puts that on a candle.

Self care that requires you to perform is not self care

Most self care advice asks you to do something. Find your happy self, light something, journal something, book something. It assumes the problem is a missing activity. But if thinking about everything you would need to take off your plate just to have one real day off is so overwhelming that you do nothing at all, the problem was never a missing bath bomb. The problem is the plate.

I used to think the answer was a break. Put on the away message, disappear for a week, come back restored. I have taken those breaks. They are lovely. They are also a pressure release valve on a system that is still broken, and the pressure always builds back. Radical self care is not a break from your life. It is the decision to build a life you do not need to take a break from. That sounds like something on a mug until you actually try to do it, and then it becomes one of the hardest things you have ever attempted. It is still on my list right under recovering from a c-section, and if you know, you know.

The part nobody glamorizes

Radical self care will cost you. Let me be specific, because six years later I can be.

You will offend people. You will lose some relationships that were really just extraction agreements with a friendship filter on them. You will lose money. I have walked away from contracts, stages, and opportunities that looked incredible on paper and felt like lead in my body, and I did it without standing on a rooftop explaining myself, because the explanation itself is another performance and I was done performing.

You will also disappoint people who genuinely love you, which is harder. They made plans around the version of you who never said no. They are allowed to be disappointed. You are allowed to change anyway. Both things are true and neither one requires a summit meeting.

And you will sit in the discomfort of doing absolutely nothing, which for high achievers is its own kind of hell. Your whole identity has been built on output. Stillness feels like failure. But your body has been keeping a ledger this entire time, and stillness is when it finally reads you the balance. Some of what it tells you will require ugly crying. Budget for that.

Your body knew before you did

If I could add one thing to the original post, it would be this. Your body is not the last to know. It is the first. The tight chest before the meeting you should have declined. The exhaustion that shows up specifically around certain people. The Sunday dread that you kept calling “just being busy.” That is data. That is the most honest advisor you have, and most of us have spent years overriding it because the calendar said we had commitments.

Radical self care, practiced daily, is mostly just this: consulting your body before your calendar, and believing what it tells you even when it is inconvenient. Especially when it is inconvenient.

There is still no finish line. That’s the good news now.

Six years ago I wrote that there is no finish line to this, and I meant it as a warning. Now I mean it as relief. You do not graduate from radical self care. You just get faster at recognizing when you have started abandoning yourself again, and the gap between the abandonment and the correction gets shorter. Mine used to be measured in years. Then months. Now it is usually days, sometimes hours. That is the entire victory. Not perfection. Response time.

So no, I am not going to tell you to abolish the massages and the Shea butter and the long bath with Jill Scott doing what only Jill Scott can do. Keep all of it. Just know that those are the rewards of the work, not the work itself. The work is the radical honesty about what you actually want, what you actually hate, and what you built that needs to come down. The work is parenting yourself. The work is taking the cape off and becoming your own hero instead of everyone else’s.

You are not broken. You were never broken. You are a human being who was handed a culture that treats rest as a reward for productivity and burnout as a personality trait, and you adapted to it brilliantly. Now you get to adapt out of it.

Start with the challenge staring right at you. The rest will come, and it will come at the right time, and yes, it will be messy the whole way through.

That is not the flaw in the process. That is the process.


If you are ready to get radically honest about where your energy is actually going and what you were built to do instead, start with the genius assessment at geniusgap.ai. It will not hand you a bath bomb. It will hand you a mirror.

Leave a comment