You know those Get Ready With Me reels where there’s a jade roller, a bubble headband, seventeen skincare products, and everything looks so calm and sorted?
I used to watch those and feel quietly bad about myself. Like self-care was this whole thing I hadn’t figured out yet.
I’ve been a little all over the place lately. Building Ezza has taken over a lot.
I’ve lost track of what day it is more times than I can count. Eaten standing up, skipped things I said I wouldn’t skip, let my sleep become completely chaotic.
But I still read.
Somehow, always.
Late at night, or in that foggy window before I’m fully awake. Not because I’m trying to learn something. Just because it feels good.
And honestly, I’ve realised this is my self-care.
Not the jade roller, not the routine. This messy, unscheduled, sneaking-in-whenever-it-can habit of picking up a book.
So I’ve been wondering — what is that for you?
Not the thing you think should be your self-care. The thing that actually is.
