Is Self-Care Selfish?

A few years ago, I was seeing a counselor while experiencing a prolonged period of depression. After our first few sessions, she observed gently, “It seems you have difficulty taking care of yourself.”

I snapped back, “What do you mean? I brushed my teeth. I even put on mascara this morning!”

The truth was that the notion of self-care seemed selfish.

I didn’t understand what she was referring to in my life. Wasn’t it a good thing that I’d poured myself into serving God by caring for the people around me—loving my husband, raising our children, becoming a foster parent, serving in my congregation and community, and being there for my friends? Until that awkward moment in the counselor’s office, I’d never thought about what it meant to care for myself, too. The truth was that the notion seemed … well, selfish.

The picture I carried of self-care highlighted a specific kind of lifestyle that involved days spent at a spa, reading the latest popular self-help book, and shopping at high-end boutiques for the season’s latest fashions. Putting on mascara was as much of a nod as I felt I could give to that way of life. But that conversation with my counselor made me question whether it even counted as self-care.

I realized I may not have known what self-care truly entailed. So, I launched into a deep dive to explore it for myself.

Self-Care in History 

Since antiquity, there have been discussions (and in some religious circles, warnings) about the need for self-care. 

The term itself was first used in the 1950s by healthcare providers who used it to describe basic activities of daily living for patients. By the 1960s, the language of self-care became an important component in the culture of social activism in groups like the Black Panthers.¹ Attending to one’s own physical, emotional, and spiritual health was seen as an essential way in which members of these groups could have the energy and endurance to keep up the fight for social change. 

Writer and activist Audre Lorde brought the term to a wider audience in her book A Burst of Light and Other Essays, published in 1980. She utilized it to describe aspects of her experience battling cancer amidst her work as an advocate for social justice.

Since then, the term has headlined a massive business boom. A 2023 Inc. magazine article noted that the worldwide wellness industry has an estimated value of 1.5 trillion dollars.² Self-care has come to mean anything from a scented candle to yoga retreats, and just about everything on Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop.com website. While some of those things might be nice to have (after all, I love a good, scented candle or body lotion), I have come to understand that self-care doesn’t begin with the use of a credit card.

The Heart of Self-Care

I took stock of all that my “self” encompassed—I’m a spiritual, physical, and emotional being. The welfare of something with such dimension requires care that is similarly holistic. After all, a new skincare regimen can only go skin-deep. I began to realize that true self-care is anchored in a life-giving relationship with God, the world around me, and myself. 

When God delivered the Law to Moses, He gave the famous command to “love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD” (Leviticus 19:18). Those words have echoed throughout the centuries, and still ring true. Loving others well requires that we first love ourselves well.

Over a century later, His command resurfaced in a significant moment in history. Yeshua, in true Jewish fashion, loved to debate. A teacher of the Law heard him in a lively discussion with the Sadducees and asked him, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?”³ Yeshua answered first with the familiar words of the “V’ahavtah,” charging us to love God with our heart, soul, mind, and strength (Deuteronomy 6:4–5). He then quoted God’s words to Moses: “The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.”⁴

He made it clear that loving our neighbors in the same way we love ourselves is inextricably related to loving God Himself (Mark 12:29–31). This completely reshaped how I viewed taking care of myself holistically, and I knew I had to start implementing the right practices to love myself the way God commands us to. 

How to Practice Self-Care Intentionally 

I once thought ignoring my own needs was a heroic, selfless way to live. But if you’ve flown anywhere, you’ve likely noticed that even basic airline emergency instructions contradict this: “When the oxygen masks release, put on your own mask before helping others.” If I can’t breathe, I’m not much use to anyone else. 

By ignoring my own welfare, I didn’t understand how to care for others as well as I thought I did. Knowing my own needs helps me anticipate those of others and makes me a more empathetic, understanding person.

I’ve discovered that the categories in which God calls us to love Him have also clarified for me ways I can nurture myself.

Heart: Self-care means being intentional in all my relationships. This has included setting healthy boundaries in my existing relationships, as well as remaining open to the delight of building new friendships.

Soul: God is calling me to be a human being, not a human doing. I am learning to receive His love not because I produce activity for Him, but simply because He made me and cherishes me.

Mind: I have always loved learning. Only recently did I notice how much energy it gives me to remain a lifelong student. I’ve tried to find ways to challenge my brain and feed my mind with things that bring me joy.

Strength: When God created Shabbat, He was creating a built-in time to refill. He knew we would need it. This weekly invitation to rest and renew both body and soul is a prompt for self-care. Shabbat reminds me to implement nourishing food, play, deep breathing, and the outdoors throughout the week. 

Loving God and my neighbor meant loving myself well.

Breaking down self-care in this way transformed my view, which had been shaped by pop culture models that convinced me that self-care was just self-indulgent narcissism with a side of expensive yoga pants. It refocused me on a very foundational concept from our Creator Himself: loving God and my neighbor meant loving myself well.

The Ongoing Duty of Self-Care

It took me a while to identify the unhealthy ways I needed to be needed and to unravel the sense of my own identity that was wrapped up in being detrimentally sacrificial. But once I began to understand how much better I could care for others, I realized I could offer a sacrifice from a place of plenty instead of scraping the bottom of an empty vessel.

Caring for the essential needs of my heart, soul, mind, and strength is an ongoing task for me. I’m not perfect at it (after all, I’m a lifelong student!), but I’m on a journey of growth. Already, I can see my capacity for love expanding—for my God, for my neighbor, and for myself.