Is anyone else feeling burnt out by their wellness routine?

“My current ethos: if it begins to feel like I chore, I quit.”

I’ve always enjoyed prioritising my health, being active and eating well. But like most women in their late twenties, I’ve been tangled up in the whirlwind that is the modern health and wellness industry.

In my mid-teens, mostly to the behest of my mum, I endured the 5:2 diet, raged my way through juice cleanses, cut out carbs, feared the weights room at the gym and was hyperaware of my acne, bacne, body hair and ever-present monobrow (not in a chic way, FYI).

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Fast forward to my first year of uni in the UK, I swung the other way. Desperate to fit in and make a name for myself in the hockey society (highly important to me at the time), I put my health on the back burner. I partied too hard, drank myself into oblivion and inevitably, ate too much shitty beige food.

With health, wellness and fitness, it’s easy to yo-yo and succumb to the pressures and influences around you. Mothers impart generational self-image trauma onto their daughters, you make friends at uni who can eat whatever they want, somehow lose weight, and tell you not to stress about your ballooning figure. 

And now, we’re experiencing wellness burnout from the relentless social media narrative of looksmaxxing, animal-based diets, cortisol face, the Stairmaster challenge, protein Diet Coke(?)… it’s no wonder we’re exhausted. 

I’ve luckily come to a place in my life where I’m starting to understand my physical and mental needs. My current ethos: if it begins to feel like I chore, I quit.

My first experience of a wellness break-up came after the death of my Apple Watch. Working out had never felt like a chore for me, but I’d religiously worn the watch for years, meticulously tracking my every CrossFit, running or yoga workout and ensuring I hit my 10,000 steps a day. 

When it stopped working, I actually felt panicked. How could I possibly navigate life without knowing my stats for the day, what’s the point? After a couple of weeks of desperately trying to find a cheap replacement, my panic subsided. I realised I don’t need to track to feel good. If I’ve worked out, I’ve worked out and that’s great. Out of habit, I know how much walking I like to do in a day, to move my body and keep my brain energised. Feeling like you need to keep track of everything is just another way to put pressure on yourself.

I’ve also tried to tap into the mindfulness space. But in my attempts at journalling, yoga, meditation and keeping gratitude diaries, I felt like a fraud. As someone who is stereotypically British and cynical, trying to be a spiritual girlie is very off-brand for me. 

I thought, ‘Why am I forcing myself to find my zen when I know I feel most relaxed when watching some horrifying true crime doc? Perhaps that’s my most meditative state?’ Granted, I could benefit from a bit more soul-searching, but I don’t feel a burning need to. Instead, I’ve tried to shift negativity and actively appreciate all the great things I have in my life. Reminding myself to make a conscious mentality switch has been more beneficial than the labour of adding extra tasks to my everyday routine.

I really wish I could be a skincare girl. I’m jealous of aesthetic bathrooms filled with expensive products and those with glassy complexions that could only come from a 12-step Korean skincare routine. But it’s just not for me. I’m lucky if I remember to apply SPF before I leave the house for work. 

I’m still struggling to adjust to the move from London to Sydney. I often break out around my jawline and neck, and my hair is breaking and thinning. In intermittent fevers of despair, I decide to commit to a rigorous routine of cleansing, scrubbing, hyaluronic acid, retinol, toner, hair masks, hair thickener, curling cream. I spend a small fortune and give up after two weeks. Maybe I’m lazy or maybe it’s ok to have a two-step routine if it means I will stick to it. 

Everyone has their own wellness priorities and means of enjoyment, and we can’t all be the same. I blame social media for my temporary loss of independent thought. It’s draining constantly being told how we should look, feel, dress, make breakfast, workout, live. So, when it comes to feeling healthy and well within myself, I’ve decided to pursue only the things I find genuinely enjoyable. Fuck the rest.

For more on toxic wellness culture, try this.