Wellness is everywhere. We’re told to move more, rest better, eat cleaner, think positively, manage stress, optimise sleep and still somehow be productive, sociable and grateful while doing it. (All while posting it on social media, obviously.) And yet, for all this focus on wellbeing, many of us feel more tired, more dissatisfied and more like we’re falling short than ever before.
It made me wonder, when did looking after ourselves start to feel so… difficult?
When did wellness become a moral standard?
Somewhere along the way, wellness stopped being something supportive and started becoming something we’re judged on - including by ourselves.
It’s no longer just about feeling okay, it’s about doing things correctly. Eating the right foods, moving in the right way, having the right mindset. There’s a sense that if we’re not thriving, it’s because we’re not trying hard enough.
This change turns wellbeing into a kind of moral achievement. You’re not just tired — you’re failing to manage your energy properly. You’re not just stressed — you’re not regulating your nervous system well enough. And that self-inflicted pressure can be incredibly heavy.
Stress, exhaustion, anxiety or burnout are interpreted as problems to fix rather than signals to listen to. And because the solutions are framed as individual choices, the responsibility sits squarely on the person, rather than the circumstances.
Instead of asking, “What do I need right now?”, we end up asking, “Where should I be doing better?”
Comparison is the thief of joy
We have to talk about social media. Not because it’s inherently bad, but because it constantly shows us carefully edited versions of how life could look.
We’re surrounded by images of people who appear to have cracked the code: balanced meals, perfect bodies, calm minds, successful careers - and time to journal about it all. And even although we all know it’s carefully curated content, our nervous systems don’t realise this.
What we’re really seeing isn’t harmless aspiration — it’s comparison without context. We don’t see the money, the childcare, the burnout, the bad days or the support systems. We just see the result and quietly measure ourselves against it.
Wellness seems to have become performative - something to post on Instagram rather than something to feel.
Productivity masquerading as wellness
A lot of what’s marketed as wellness is actually productivity in disguise. Am I calm enough, grateful enough, productive enough? It’s not care — it’s policing. And it creates a low-level anxiety where you’re always assessing whether you’re “doing wellbeing properly”.
This is where wellness quietly starts to resemble productivity culture: constant tracking, measuring, and optimising, even in moments meant for rest.
In fact, even rest is framed as something we should do efficiently, as though its primary purpose is to make us better workers or more impressive individuals. It leaves no room for rest that exists simply because we’re tired, or joy that doesn’t serve a higher purpose.
It seems like there’s an uncomfortable paradox emerging — we’re told to slow down, but also to constantly improve. To be kinder to ourselves, but only if it leads to growth. It’s no wonder that many of us feel like we’re failing at rest too.
Modern life makes balance feel impossible
It’s also worth pointing out that many of us are trying to practise “wellness” in an environment that is actively working against us.
Long working hours, financial pressure, blurred boundaries between work and home (thanks Microsoft Teams), constant notifications, and a general sense that we should always be available — these things take a very real and cumulative toll on our mental health. Add caring responsibilities, health issues, or uncertainty about the future, and suddenly self-care becomes another task on an already overloaded list.
In that context, being told to simply “look after yourself better” can feel frustrating at best, and dismissive at worst. It places responsibility on individuals to cope with systems that are, frankly, exhausting.
How much is “enough”
What strikes me most is how rarely modern wellness talks about enough.
There’s always the next goal: a better routine, a healthier habit, a calmer mind, a stronger body. The bar keeps moving. When there’s no clear point at which you can say, “I am enough” self-satisfaction becomes impossible.
I/We are living in a state of almost-but-not-quite. Almost healthy enough. Almost disciplined enough. Almost balanced enough.
Nothing quite gets your 100%, and this constant sense of striving can quietly drain the joy out of things that were meant to support us.
Reframing Wellness
So maybe the problem isn’t that we don’t care enough about our wellbeing — maybe it’s that we’ve turned it into a performance.
What if wellness wasn’t about constant improvement, but about permission?
Permission to rest without earning it. Permission to be inconsistent. Permission to have seasons where survival is the achievement.
Wellness isn’t something to optimise, it’s about listening to our bodies.
I suppose my own aim is to make wellness feel less like another KPI, and more like honesty — about what I can give, what I need, and what I’m willing to let go of. Real wellness is becoming less about being a better version of myself and more about being kind to myself.
Truly taking care of ourselves doesn’t need to be a measure our worth. It can simply be a way of living that leaves a little more room to breathe.
And perhaps that - quietly and imperfectly - is enough.