When I first heard the word self-care, it honestly sounded like psychobabble — an excuse to be selfish or to indulge. As a male therapist in a mostly female cohort, I remember professors going around the room asking, “What do you do for self-care?”
The answers always varied. Disney World. Hair appointments. The spa. Walking the dog. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. But over the years, I realized I had been missing the point.
Self-care isn’t about entitlement. It isn’t about pampering. It’s about responsibility — the kind that allows me to show up for my clients, my family, and myself without falling apart.
The Oxygen Mask Principle
We’ve all heard it: “Put on your oxygen mask first before helping others.” It sounds cliché, but the truth is undeniable. If I pass out from lack of oxygen, I can’t help anyone else. In fact, I’d become a liability. The same goes for my mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual health.
I wear many hats: therapist, researcher, father, son, brother, husband. Each one is important. But none of them matter if I don’t first ground myself in the basics — sleep, food, movement, peace.
Self-Care in Relapse Prevention
I’ve worked with many people with substance use disorders, and one of the most important tools in recovery is relapse prevention planning. In those plans, we talk a lot about triggers and warning signs:
- A trigger is something external that can spark a mental, spiritual, or emotional relapse.
- A warning sign is a noticeable change in behavior — something that tells you, or others around you, that something isn’t quite right.
For example, a warning sign might be as simple as not taking a shower. It seems small, but neglecting that act of self-care could snowball into something bigger, even leading up to relapse. Self-care has to be part of relapse prevention. It’s not optional. It’s the foundation.
The same applies to depression, anxiety, and anger. Avoidance often stems from a lack of self-care. Feelings of low self-worth make self-care feel impossible, yet neglecting it only worsens the cycle. Failing to decompress can make you more reactive and less balanced.
A Daily Reprieve
Here’s something I’ve learned: we don’t stay clean from yesterday’s shower. Self-care is a daily practice, a routine. Just like recovery, it requires consistency. Every day, I take inventory and ask myself:
- Did I meditate today?
- Did I pray today?
- Did I accept help from someone today?
- Did I talk to somebody just for the joy of connection?
- Did I find joy at all today?
These questions remind me that happiness and joy aren’t accidents — they’re the result of effort. If I’m smiling and enjoying life, it’s because I’ve put in the work to keep myself well.
Final Thoughts
Self-care isn’t indulgence — it’s oxygen. It’s relapse prevention. It’s what allows me to be the best father, husband, son, brother, therapist, and human being I can be. And the truth is, happiness and joy take work. They don’t just land in my lap. If I want them, I have to go out and make them.
Self-care is how I make them.