I Went to the Spa for Self-Care and Wanted a Divorce

The woman at the spa reception desk had the serene, unbothered look of someone who has never had to navigate an anxiety spiral while simultaneously maintaining a professional demeanor in a Zoom meeting. "Welcome to your self-care journey," she purred, handing me a robe that definitely wouldn't close properly over my pandemic stress weight. "Today is all about you."I almost laughed in her face. All about me? I hadn't peed alone in what felt like years, metaphorically speaking, as life's demands constantly banged on the bathroom door of my attention.This spa day was my partner's idea. "You need a break," they insisted, practically shoving me out the door that morning. "Go relax! Recharge! Come back refreshed!"Three hours later, as I lay face-down on a massage table while a stranger named Serena dug her elbow into knots in my back that had been forming since 2018, I had my epiphany: The problem wasn't that I needed more self-care. The problem was that I needed a completely different life.The Self-Care Industrial ComplexHere's what nobody tells you about the modern self-care movement: It's a band-aid on a bullet wound. It's a system designed to keep you functional enough to continue overextending yourself rather...