Self-care movement sits at the center of this dementia and brain health question.
The self-care movement started with a powerful and positive goal: to encourage people to take care of their mental, emotional, and physical health. At its core, self-care is about nurturing ourselves in simple ways—like getting enough rest, eating well, moving our bodies, or spending time with loved ones. It’s meant to be accessible and personal, not something that requires expensive products or indulgent experiences.
However, over time, the idea of self-care has shifted in ways that can make it feel selfish rather than supportive. What began as a practice rooted in survival and resistance—especially within marginalized communities who used self-care as a way to protect themselves from systemic harm—has been transformed by commercial interests into something more about pampering oneself. Instead of focusing on genuine well-being and community connection, many now see self-care as buying luxury spa treatments or taking lavish vacations. This version often excludes those who cannot afford such things and turns what should be healing into another source of stress or guilt.
This shift also ties into how individualism has taken center stage in the conversation around care. Some feminist thinkers have pointed out that when self-care becomes only about “me,” it loses sight of the collective—the “we” that connects us all. True care involves not just preserving oneself but also supporting others and challenging systems that cause harm collectively.
Audre Lorde famously said caring for herself was an act of political warfare—a form of survival against oppression—not mere indulgence. Her view reminds us that real self-care is deeply connected to social justice; it’s about reclaiming autonomy over our bodies and lives while recognizing how interconnected we are with others’ struggles.
Unfortunately, when wellness culture markets self-care as constant indulgence without this deeper context, it risks making people feel selfish for simply trying to survive daily pressures without extravagant means. It can isolate individuals instead of empowering them because not everyone can participate equally in these costly rituals.
In reality, authentic self-care is much simpler: drinking water when thirsty; taking breaks when overwhelmed; setting boundaries; saying no without guilt; embracing your body regardless of societal standards; connecting with friends who lift you up—all these acts nurture both mind and body without needing money or luxury products.
So while the popular image might paint a picture where caring for yourself looks like treating yourself extravagantly all the time—which sounds nice but isn’t always possible—the original spirit behind the movement calls for balance between personal preservation and collective responsibility. Self-care isn’t selfish if understood properly—it’s essential survival wrapped up with love for oneself *and* others around us.
For more, see Alzheimer’s Association.
