How to Start with Self-Care: A Therapist’s Findings

Good morning, or good whatever-part-of-the-day it is for you. I’m a therapist here to share my (realistic) take on self-care—a guide that’s less about perfection and more about threading small moments of care into a world that often feels like it’s coming undone.

Let’s be honest: in the relentless rhythm of our lives, therapy alone isn’t the ultimate fix. It’s one of many tools we might reach for in the quest to feel okay in a world that doesn’t always make room for it. So where do we start? For me, it’s at the “balance” that so many of us crave and that seems almost mythical right now. We live in an overwhelming world, and it’s easy to feel like we’re always trying to play catch-up.

But here’s the thing: self-care doesn’t come pre-packaged. Yet, often we follow a pre-made, almost clichéd “self-care” script—a warm bath, a day off, or a candlelit room. While these things are wonderful, they’re not the one-size-fits-all solutions they’re often made out to be.

Many of us have absorbed this cultural bias about what self-care "should" look like: polished, soft-lit, blissful. Real self-care might be far messier and more personal.

Sometimes, it means spending a few minutes each day jotting down your thoughts, prioritising one small goal, or even setting a boundary with someone close. Self-care can be gritty, imperfect, and highly individual—and still, it can be deeply effective.

1. The Anchor

In self-care, everything needs an anchor—something steady that reminds us to show up for ourselves. Your anchor might be therapy sessions, a trusted friend for accountability, or even a sticky note on your mirror with a reminder like, “How did I feel last time I took five minutes to breathe?” This anchor can be anything that speaks to you, that cuts through the noise, and that helps you resist that societal bias toward picture-perfect self-care. We want this to feel real—not like a reminder ping that gets lost in the shuffle.

2. The Belief

Once you've found an anchor, the next step is belief—belief in your own process. This belief will keep you going, especially when self-care doesn’t look like what Instagram or wellness blogs might suggest. Self-care is personal; no one can define it for you. Trust that your unique approach is enough.

3. The Process or Resource

Now, consider what you’re calling self-care. What does it look like for you? Because self-care isn’t a formula, and it often doesn’t look the way we’ve been told it “should.” For some, it might mean drawing in silence. For others, it could be a walk without their phone or practicing a boundary in a challenging relationship. Sometimes we get so caught up in what self-care "should" be that we miss what it could truly be for us. And that’s why therapy (or at least self-reflection) can help—finding self-care that genuinely meets your needs, not someone else’s idea of it.

4. The Need

Identifying your needs is the heart of it. This is where we break from any preconceived notions of what self-care "should" be and start honoring what we genuinely need. This is especially essential if you’re neurodivergent and struggle with interoception (sensing internal states) or alexithymia (difficulty identifying emotions). If this sounds abstract, working with a creative therapist might help.

Self-care rooted in genuine needs—rather than “self-care” culture’s shiny images—can be freeing. And it will finally work!

5. The Action

When you've named your needs, it’s time for action—the most personal step of all. This might look like a new boundary, five quiet minutes a day, or joining a group class. By now, you’ll see how this action connects to your unmet need. And you’ll (hopefully) realise that true self-care doesn’t have to be costly or time-consuming—it just has to be meaningful. When we let go of the need to meet self-care “standards,” we make space for self-care that’s real and relevant to us.

True self-care might never feel like a perfect antidote to the chaos outside. But when we find what works for us—however messy or simple—we start to honor the part of ourselves that matters, beyond any cultural bias of what self-care “should” look like.