Transforming Wellness: Lessons from My 20s to My 30s

In my 20s, I viewed wellness as a rigid guide to living—structured and overly optimized. Influenced by social media and a perfectionist mindset, I meticulously curated every smoothie ingredient and morning ritual. I believed that rest was a luxury, and pleasure was something to question. I often mistook control for self-care, rarely considering if my choices truly made me feel good.

Reflecting back, I realize I fell for a pervasive wellness narrative that thrived on our desire for improvement, yet kept us trapped in a cycle of dissatisfaction.

Feature image from our interview with Inge Theron

Wellness Misconceptions I’ve Left Behind

As I enter my 30s, I’m learning that wellness isn’t a one-size-fits-all solution. Letting go of strict rules has sometimes felt disorienting, especially with constant marketing of new rituals. I now recognize that the most beneficial habits are the ones that align with my current state, rather than a fabricated ideal. This journey involves self-reflection, tuning out the external noise, and embracing the less performative paths.

Wellness isn’t about feeling good all the time; it’s about allowing yourself to experience a full range of emotions.

Shifting from Restrictive Eating to Joyful Nourishment

In the past, clean eating defined me. I thought eliminating foods equated to better health. Yet, this rigidity was often a mask for deeper issues—an eating disorder that affected both my nutrition and self-image. I confused strictness with health, associating “clean” with morality, and feared anything deemed indulgent. The wellness community praised this mindset, and I played along until the burden became unbearable.

What truly helped me wasn’t a new diet but the gradual realization that nourishment shouldn’t stem from fear. I learned that no food is bad; enjoying ice cream on a summer evening or sharing pizza with friends holds as much value as a green smoothie. Today, I embrace a diverse, flexible diet that caters to my true desires. I eat for energy, yes, but also for joy and connection. There’s no guilt attached to my meals anymore.

If you’re trying to move past clean eating, observe your thoughts around food. Do certain meals bring guilt? Do others make you feel good or bad? Aim for neutrality and curiosity. Allow yourself to enjoy previously feared foods. Taste them. Relish the experience. Rediscover food as just food.

The Downside of Constant Productivity

Who else has chased the exhilaration of ticking off tasks? My days were a whirlwind of back-to-back obligations, and I wore my burnout like a badge of achievement. I believed rest was a luxury rather than a necessity. My focus on wellness revolved around functioning efficiently. I thought mastering the perfect routine or finding the right productivity tip would help me escape the nagging anxiety that lingered. Yet, even on my most productive days, peace eluded me.

It took a significant emotional and physical toll for me to start asking new questions. What if I valued presence more than performance? Could I find meaning in a day that wasn’t about productivity? Gradually, I replaced the need for optimization with mindfulness. Now, my days center on what truly matters—quiet mornings, meaningful conversations, focused work, and unstructured time. I still appreciate a checklist, but I no longer equate busyness with self-worth.

If you’re stuck in the cycle of endless doing, try focusing on what you want to feel at the week’s start—not just what you want to accomplish. It could be connection, creativity, or rest. Then, craft your schedule to support those feelings. Remember: productivity is just one facet of a fulfilling life.

Letting Go of Toxic Positivity

For years, I believed maintaining a positive mindset would solve everything. I curated my outlook like my Instagram—bright and relentlessly optimistic. I repeated phrases like “good vibes only” and tried to turn every struggle into a lesson. While optimism has its place, I often used it to avoid uncomfortable emotions. Sadness, anger, and disappointment didn’t fit into my wellness narrative, so I pushed them away.

But emotions need to be acknowledged. The more I tried to suppress them, the more they surfaced through anxiety and burnout. I’ve learned that true wellness embraces the entire spectrum of feelings. It's found in accepting tough days, allowing tears without needing to mend them, and taking deep breaths after expressing my truth. Now, my goal is emotional honesty, welcoming both good days and challenging ones without shame.

Emotions demand to be felt. The more I glossed over them, the more they emerged in unexpected ways.

When you feel the urge to “think positive” in difficult moments, pause and reflect on your genuine feelings. Identify them without judgment. Give yourself time to process, whether through journaling or talking with a trusted friend. Finding strength in acknowledging your emotions is crucial. Wellness is about permitting yourself to experience everything.

Wellness as Performance vs. Authentic Experience

In our image-driven world, I thought wellness had to be proven. It wasn’t solely about self-care; it was about how it appeared to others. I shared everything: my matcha, workouts, and books on my shelf. I sought validation through an idealized version of wellness that looked serene and aspirational. I didn’t intend to be performative; I simply struggled to discern between rituals that grounded me and those I felt I had to display.

Eventually, I recognized that the most genuine wellness experiences were those I didn’t share: the phone-free walks, moments of quiet tears in the shower, and the comforting meal I prepared after a long day. These simple rituals meant so much more than the curated ones. Today, I gauge my wellness not by outward appearances but by how I feel afterward—calmer, more at peace, and authentically myself. It’s a lived experience, not a performance.

Evaluate your rituals. Ask yourself: Am I doing this for nourishment or to uphold an image? Introduce more moments that are just for you. Leave your phone away. Focus on what feels right, even if it’s unrefined. That’s where true wellness flourishes.

Your Unique Wellness Journey

Wellness in my 20s was loud and demanding. It craved attention—rigid, aesthetic, often performative. However, the wellness I've discovered in my 30s is quiet and doesn’t need validation. It might look like a long walk when I’m feeling anxious or reaching out to a friend instead of pushing through alone. I’ve accepted that cold plunges aren’t for me, and embracing that brings its own freedom.

This is the wellness I seek: intuitive, imperfect, and wholly my own.

If you’re figuring out what wellness should be versus what genuinely feels good, you’re not alone. There’s immense freedom in discarding expectations that don’t align with you and crafting something gentler in their place. Start small. Start honest. Remember, wellness isn’t a goal to achieve; it’s a way of living.