How Black women are redefining wellness in the face of racial trauma and injustice

“Then I read a verse or scripture from the Bible. And I make a list in my gratitude journal of at least five things I’m grateful for and that really sets the tone for the rest of the day. So even if the day goes sideways, I can reflect back on my journal entry from that morning, or the verse I’ve read from the Bible and be like ‘okay, get yourself back into perspective’ It really sets the tone for the rest of the day,” she adds.

“So affirmations come really into play, and really just reflecting on getting through the day and how you’re getting there.”

It’s important to note, though, that wellness requires being honest with yourself about how life is going. Social media has played a huge role in the promotion of toxic positivity. Ultimately, platforms like Instagram are often a highlight reel that only shows the good but not so much the bad. “I surround myself with people that don’t project toxic positivity,” Gabrielle says.

She references quotes like “good vibes only” as being shallow and counterproductive. “That’s good, but how is that going to help me to practice self-care, and how can I apply that to my everyday life?”

“Realists know and accept the fact that they’re gonna have good days and bad days, and that’s okay. It’s part of the human experience.” She refers to her friends as her “spiritual siblings” who encourage her to practice self-care for herself, and also mentions her husband and parents, who are part of her support system.

24-year-old Ruva doesn’t identify with the ideas of wellness she sees. “It feels like this really airy fairy commodified concept. I recognise that at its core wellness is about health, holistically. The mind, body and soul. But it genuinely feels like everytime I hear the word wellness, it’s being used to sell me something, so I’ve disconnected from it,” she says.

“Not everyone wants to meditate, some people just wanna do a kickboxing class in the gym and that is just as meditative. But wellness has been branded as intense and capitalist.”

She mentions Gwyneth Paltrow’s This Smells Like My Vagina Candle which retails for £75. It’s not an inherently bad thing to light a candle to help you relax, but there’s a narrative that you have to spend money on the best of the best products when it should feel accessible to everyone. These products are often marketed to white women, and it’s also ironic that back in 2018, Gwyneth Paltrow claimed that she popularised yoga, failing to recognise its Northern Indian origins.

Ruva has a different idea of self-care and wellness and says that sometimes you just need to do the practical stuff. “I once heard someone say that self-care is something that future you will thank you for. For me, it’s often about just getting shit done. People sometimes say, ‘self-care is a bath’, but sometimes I need to do the stuff I’m supposed to be doing so that future me is not stressed.”

Ruva also mentions taking time for herself and saying no as a way to practice self-care. “The joy of missing out,” she laughs. “I’m so lucky to have a great friendship group, but they are very social, and sometimes I just need to not see people.”

When she is ready to socially tap back in, though, she appreciates the “romance” she has in her friendships and likes to prioritise “friend dates”.

Lorraine echoes this sentiment of being kind to yourself and is a champion of not waiting until you feel you “deserve” something before you put a facial on, or give yourself a pedicure, or cut your hair. “Wellness means not attaching ourselves to our productivity.”

Black women are redefining what it means to be well in their own unique ways, setting boundaries and being kind to ourselves just because. As Lorraine says, the mindset shouldn’t be: “I’ve done five hours of work, then I deserve a bath or then I deserve to get my hair done.”