You Can’t Self-Care Your Way Into Self-Love

You Can’t Self-Care Your Way Into Self-Love


A Guide to Making Self-Love Take Form


The Myth of the Bubble Bath

Somewhere along the way, self-love got rebranded as scented candles and $45 serums. Don’t get me wrong, there’s magic in magnesium flakes and quiet baths. But there’s a difference between soothing yourself and showing up for yourself.

I’ve tried to self-care my way into self-love before. I’ve made the lists, lit the candles, poured the tea. But the truth is, you can’t schedule your way into belonging inside your own body. Self-love isn’t something you do when you have time; it’s how you decide to live with yourself in real time.


When Respect Becomes Ritual

In a recent She’s Got Guts episode, Molly said something that landed right in my chest:

“For me, a big part of self-love was taking care of my body, not in a dramatic way, but in small things like shaving my legs, going to the gym, and getting my steps in six days a week.”

We talked about how easy it is, when you work from home, to forget that your body is part of you, not just the vehicle that carries your mind to the next Zoom call.

For me, self-respect starts when I remember that my body is a teammate, not a to-do list.

It’s brushing my hair slowly after a shower. It’s stepping outside to feel light on my face before coffee. It’s keeping the promises I make to myself, even if no one else will know.

Ritual practice:

  • Move your body in a way that feels like respect, not revenge.

  • Sip your SuperCube before your morning walk. Let the warmth remind you that energy is built, not borrowed.

  • Ask yourself at the end of the day: Did I treat myself like someone I admire?


Becoming a Teammate with My Heart

There’s a moment I come back to again and again, place hand on my heart, whispering softly, “I love you. I am listening.”

That phrase came from the poet and teacher Sarah Blondin, but it’s become my own north star. I use it whenever I catch myself spiraling into judgment or overwhelm.

When I place my hand over my heart, I’m reminding my body and my nervous system that I’m on my own side. That I’m not here to fix myself, I’m here to know myself.

It’s not about having the perfect affirmation—it’s about the intimacy of listening.

Ritual practice:

  • Take one minute. Close your eyes, hand to heart, and whisper: I love you. I’m listening.

  • Notice what arises: a flutter, a tightness, a small exhale. Don’t interpret. Just listen.

  • Finish by misting Magic Mist over your face or chest. A little magnesium blessing for your heart space.


The Small Work of Showing Up

There’s a point where the story of self-love stops being theory and starts being Tuesday.

It’s the morning you wake up puffy and tired and do your best anyway. It’s when you sit in the quiet and let your body ache without rushing to fix it. It’s how you show up when no one’s watching.

For me, this is where real love lives: in the repeat practice of noticing, softening, and trying again.

Self-love doesn’t always feel like fireworks; sometimes it feels like brushing your teeth before bed, even after the day has chewed you up.

Ritual practice:

  • Choose one micro-promise: walk around the block, drink a full glass of water, stretch your neck. Keep it.

  • Let the simplicity of consistency become sacred.

  • Celebrate quiet devotion, it counts.


Turning Maintenance Into Meaning

When you start seeing your daily rituals as devotion instead of drudgery, something shifts.

Self-love becomes less about fixing what’s “wrong” and more about staying in relationship with yourself. You begin to move from performance to partnership.

I’ve learned that the most healing moments aren’t grand.  They’re the ones where I choose to stay connected: when I sip my SuperCube slowly instead of gulping it between emails, or when I pause to breathe before reacting.

It’s those moments that teach me I’m already whole; I’m just learning how to honor it.

Ritual practice:

  • Name one daily act that’s been on autopilot.  Your skincare, your coffee, your commute. Slow it down. Make it holy.

  • Use your senses as portals: warmth, scent, light, texture.

  • Ask: What does love look like right now, in this body, in this moment?


Lala’s Ritual Notes

Sip: Your morning SuperCube—slowly. Let it be warmth that meets your cells before the world does.

Breathe: One hand on your heart. Whisper, “I love you. I’m listening.” Let your breath be the bridge between effort and ease.

Mist: A few spritzes of Magic Mist over your face or chest after a long day. Magnesium meets moment—tension softens, energy grounds.

Move: Walk, stretch, dance, or shake it out. Not to perfect your body, but to participate in it.

Remember: Self-love isn’t a feeling you chase. It’s the quiet repetition of showing up for yourself—again and again.

Closing Reflection

You can’t self-care your way into self-love because love isn’t a product. I’s a practice.

It’s not the bath salts or the routines that change you. It’s the reverence you bring to them.

So go ahead: light the candle, sip the SuperCube, mist your skin with Magic Mist. But do it with the awareness that every small act of care is a way of saying, I’m here. I’m listening. I’m on my own team.

That’s what self-love looks like when it takes form.