Skincare routines and self-care have gotten out of hand — and are slowly verging into toxic territory. 

What once was the notion of a weekly face mask, taking a day for yourself to get a pedicure or soaking in an aromatic bath, has somehow gotten misconstrued to now include long daily skincare routines, multi-step hair washing and constant self-care. 

This dawned on me when I saw an Instagram advertisement for the shampoo company Prose. Prose promoted a personalized quiz for you to sell your soul to self-care Satan and get a shampoo that is specific to you and your hair type. I saw they added a product called “Pre-Shampoo.” Now this system is three steps long. What’s next, post-conditioner?

Influencers on Instagram show hair care videos that consist of multi-step hair-washing processes. Of course, the end of the video shows perfectly voluminous, bouncy curls, as though perfection is just that easy. In reality, I’ve lost wars against my hair, and know that those locks take at least an hour to perfect. 

Whether I walk into Target and stare down the aisle at the daunting PIXI collection or scroll online through The Ordinary’s multitude of products, I am overwhelmed in thinking I need it all. I get ads for new products daily, convincing me that whatever skincare routine I follow now just isn’t good enough. 

Sometimes the marketing is so damn good that it truly convinces me if I buy this thing, my life will be significantly better. Somebody out there is really good at their job. And so begins the toxic cycle. 

Women are constantly presented ad after ad (hair, makeup, skin, nails, loungewear, vitamins, the list could go on). These ads convince us we need these things, and we buy into it. Not just that one product, but we buy into the lifestyle of looking good at all times — always having perfect hair, always being effortlessly beautiful and comfortable. 

The reality is, sometimes this effortless comfort takes months of copious attention to yourself, not just one face mask or day of relaxation, to give you that glow. And sometimes, that's exhausting.

I miss being the little girl who would come home from school every day covered in wood chips, glitter, glue — whatever the day’s activities held. I’ve seen photos of my messy hair and tummy peeking out below my shirt. I remember getting teased for that tummy, but I don’t recall ever caring. I truly lived like no one was watching, and I’d give anything to have that feeling again.

And despite this exhaustion to take care of ourselves, women are then made fun of for indulging in the “superficial.” Jokes float around about girls being obsessed with shopping or taking hours to get ready.

We are then divided into categories we see plastered as media tropes every single day. There’s the girl who loves shopping, fashion, clothes, shoes. Then you have the studious, “not like other girls” counterparts. Think Sharpay Evans versus Gabriella Montez from “High School Musical” or Regina George versus Cady Heron from “Mean Girls.” I’m pretty sure I can be smart and killer at my job while also loving to shop on weekends and get mani-pedis with my girlfriends.

After all of this, you’d think I would want to wash my hands of it all and say something like, “To hell with routine,” “I’m not going to give into societal norms,” or, “No one needs this many products to feel beautiful.”

But the truth is, I love it. Yes, I love my routines. I like smelling like I just pranced through a field of flowers. I love getting a paycheck and treating myself to a new eye cream or serum. I feel like an apothecary with my bottles of product with mystical names: niacinamide, hyaluronic acid, witch hazel, rosehip seed oil, copper peptides.

But this doesn't mean that I have to feel compelled to buy every product presented to me. This doesn’t mean I truly need any of these things to be happy. Instead of falling into the trap of ads that often target female insecurities, find things that make you feel good and routines you actually enjoy — not things you feel inclined to do because society said so. 

Marketing, media tropes and societal beauty standards may be toxic, but don’t let that vilify something that makes you feel good.