There are many options.ys to treat yourself well and look after your needs, whether they’re mental, emotional or physical. One Her World editor shares how she went about it – and the unexpected outcome.
Ever since the onset of the pandemic, there’s been lots of talk about the importance of “self-love” – in everyday conversations, in the media, on social media, and advertisements for all kinds of products that promise to deliver feel good fuzzies.
But what does this term actually mean? According to the American Psychological Association, self-love is defined as “regard for and interest in one’s own being and contentment”.
In an article on the website Psychology Today, clinical psychologist Dr Deborah Khoshaba calls it “a state of appreciation for oneself that grows from actions that support our physical, psychological and spiritual growth”.
Does it sound too broad and expansive? That’s because it is. Self-love, just like love can take many forms and be expressed in many ways. It could be taking time to meditate or enjoying a quick facial. Or, it could mean grabbing the toilet for a long-drawn DIY massage.
Some may feel it’s a mental thing, and practise self-love through positive mantras, self-affirmation and learning to love who they are – literal and figurative blemishes and all.
And yet others nourish themselves with healthy, wholesome activities, such as feel-good exercises, eating well or enjoying kick-ass sex with a loving partner (the knock-on benefits of this on a person’s appearance and mood are pretty well-known).
The bottom line is that self-love isn’t just for emo folk, or an indulgence among followers of New Age fads. It’s the essential process of staying touch with your needs, your emotions and your sense of well-being. There’s no right or wrong way to go about it either – you do what you need to feel good about yourself, so long as it doesn’t jeopardise your mental or physical health, relationships or bank account.
To give you inspiration and to motivate you to act, Her World The team shares their stories about the extremes they went to in self-love.
“As a spa junkie, I’ll visit a choice establishment in whichever foreign destination I’m in. This is time I reserve for my own personal care. When I went to Seoul, it was a trip to the jimjilbang (bathhouse) was a preordained conclusion.
Having sampled many spas, plus watched countless K-dramas, I figured I knew what I was in for, especially since I had picked one of the city’s more famous jimjilbangs. My expectations were not as high as I expected.
However, the jimjilbangAlthough it was large, it was far from luxurious. There was a huge communal shower ‘room’, cold room, cave-like room, claustrophobic warm room that wasn’t quite a sauna, computer games room, and a singing room.
I was on a mission to experience the full works, so I did the whole get-naked-in-front-of-strangers thing, sitting on a plastic stool to shower then dipping into hot and cold pools. It was more like a Turkish bath than a six-star resort, but it was a three-star family-run hotel.
My disgust at the shared bath products is what has resulted in my poor rating. I’d spurned the receptionist’s offer to purchase my own toiletries, but then realised I couldn’t bring myself to touch the half-used soap bars harbouring all manner of hair and skin cells belonging to strangers.
After the unsuccessful shower, we explored the area while trying not to feel icky for wearing the PJs and no underwear. I was a bit dazed and confused after these experiences, but I was ready to go for the retreat I had pre-paid for. It was the worst experience I have ever had in my life.
As I lay on the damp couch made of plastic in a corner that overlooked the bath area, which offered little privacy, an odor filled my nostrils. ahjumma(A Korean term for an older lady) with curly hair. She was wearing a black bra and panties and poured lukewarm water onto me.
She then took a large fistful sea salt and worked my skin with her massive arms, even my armpits. Ouch!
Grunting in a very selfsatisfied way, she showed me rolls dirt that ostensibly originated from her. Then, she splashed another bucket of hot water. I longed to move on to the massage, thinking it would soothe my maltreated body… but slap!
I was ready for the rose facial, scrub, and massage that I had pre-paid for at the entrance. It was the worst experience I have ever had in my beauty life.
– Rachelle Yeo, contributing associate editor
It was a hot towel, and I was doing the most intense kneading ever. Just as I thought I could relax with the rose facial, I was slapped!
A hot towel was placed on my face and cream was applied. It was so messy that I had to squint my eyes. It was possible that a rose-scented mask was applied at one point. However, by that time, I was desperate to cover my (still naked) body which was already in hypothermia. My face was being left to cool and dry like a salted fish while the unspeakable things were being done.
To be fair, my skin was baby smooth for weeks after the ordeal, from my face down to the soles of my feet.”
This story was first publishedHer World, February 2022 issue.
Source: Her World
