In Defence of the Spa Day

I want to make a case for doing absolutely nothing — and doing it on purpose, unapologetically, with a warm towel and a glass of something cold and absolutely nowhere else to be.

I am talking about the spa day.

Not as a reward. Not as a treat you have to earn by being sufficiently productive or sufficiently selfless for a sufficiently long period of time. As a regular, legitimate, completely guilt-free act of self-love.

I notice that women of my generation — women who grew up being told that taking care of others was the priority and that taking care of yourself was something you did quietly, privately, after everything else was done — still carry a particular kind of guilt around rest.

Not just physical rest. Luxurious rest. Intentional, indulgent, completely selfish rest.

The kind where you book a whole day at the spa and you turn your phone off and you float in warm water and you have someone take care of your body for a few hours and you think about absolutely nothing of consequence and you emerge, blinking, into the late afternoon light feeling like a person who has been thoroughly, lovingly restored.

That kind.

The guilt around this is so unnecessary. And so deeply familiar.

I should be doing something more useful. Other people have real problems. I'll do it when things slow down.

Things never slow down. You know this. I know this. The to-do list does not get shorter. The world does not pause and formally invite you to rest.

You have to take the rest yourself. You have to decide it matters. You have to book the appointment and show up and allow yourself to be taken care of without apologising for it.

I came home from my last spa day and my husband said I looked different.

Not younger — he is too wise for that kind of compliment. Just — lighter. Like something I had been carrying had been temporarily set down.

He was right. Something had been set down. The low-grade tension I carry in my shoulders approximately always. The mental hum of everything I am keeping track of. The sense that I should be somewhere else, doing something else, being more useful somewhere.

All of it, gone. For a whole evening.

Worth every single minute and every single penny.

Book the spa day. Tell no one you need to justify it to.

Show up. Float. Breathe. Come home lighter.

That is wellness. That is self-love. And you deserve both.

@shestartsat50 There is always room for you here. 🌸