The $9 Trillion Wellness Industry Thrives on Your Exhaustion—And Keeps You Chasing False Hope
I wrote this from the heart and, honestly, from a place of quiet anger too. Because I keep seeing strong, dedicated healthcare professionals doing everything they can to take care of themselves… and still ending up exhausted and disconnected from themselves and their work.
Self-care isn’t failing you because you are doing it wrong. It’s failing you because you’ve been made to believe it’s YOUR job to survive broken systems.
You’ve been told that burnout, stress, and compassion fatigue are signs of personal weakness—a lack of resilience you should fix with meditation, journaling, bubble baths, or a weekend retreat.
But that’s not the truth.
The truth is, you’re drowning in systemic pressure that no amount of candles or gratitude lists can solve. And when no one names that reality, you start turning the exhaustion inward, believing you are the problem and that you are broken.
But you are not broken. The system is.
Two weeks ago, my sister-in-law connected me with a friend she thought I could help. During our discovery call, the woman, a nurse with 12 years of experience, shared that a month earlier, she had invested $2,600 in a luxury self-care retreat—five days of sunrise yoga, organic meals, healing circles, sound baths—all the rituals she believed would help her find herself again and reconnect with her chosen career.
But as we spoke, it was clear she hadn’t found healing. She still felt exhausted. Lost. Disconnected from herself in a way that scared her even more than before. And the worst part was, she didn’t know what to do next.
Listening to her, I realized something deeply unsettling: this isn’t just one story. It’s a quiet epidemic. It’s happening everywhere, and very few are talking about it, honestly.
Self-care has been hijacked
What once promised healing has become another trillion-dollar market that soothes your symptoms just enough to keep you buying but never enough to set you free.
As Dr Pooja called it, real self-care isn’t just about escaping for a moment. It’s about learning to protect your energy, honor your humanity, set healthy boundaries, and demand environments that allow healing — not just survival.
I aim to pull back the curtain on the wellness industry’s dirtiest secret and show you what true self-care demands.
You Buy the Dream (and the Lie)
The global wellness industry is projected to hit $9 trillion by 2028. Wellness has become a big business, from artisanal bath salts to $3,000 retreats.
But beneath the glossy marketing lies a troubling truth: Genuine well-being has been commodified.
Dr. Pooja Lakshmin, psychiatrist and author of Real Self-Care, critiques how wellness culture shifts responsibility onto individuals — urging them to buy their healing while systemic problems remain untouched.
“Our culture has taken wellness and foisted it on the individual—where it can be bought, measured, and held up as a personal success—instead of investing in making our social systems healthy.” — Dr. Pooja Lakshmin, Real Self-Care.
The result?
You pour money into temporary solutions while the real forces draining your soul — workplace toxicity, social isolation, unrealistic expectations — keep winning.
And still, you blame yourself for not feeling better.
You Practice Harder (and Burn Out Faster)
You commit even deeper. More affirmations. More gratitude journals.
But still…
The fatigue lingers. The quiet panic whispers. The hollow ache grows.
Research increasingly supports what many have experienced firsthand. While self-care practices like meditation and yoga can offer temporary relief, they often fail to address the root causes of burnout. As some healthcare leaders now stress, true recovery demands more than individual effort — it calls for collective action and deep systemic change.
Dr. Zubin Damania, also known as ZDoggMD, articulates this sentiment succinctly:
“Burnout is not cured with yoga. Burnout is cured by fixing the broken systems we work in.”
Reclaiming What Self-Care Was Supposed to Mean
True self-care is radical. Uncomfortable. Messy.
Because it reaches into the root of your exhaustion and dares to challenge the systems that expect you to give until there’s nothing left. It asks you to set boundaries that may disappoint others, to choose yourself even when it feels selfish, and to face truths you’ve been taught to ignore. Real healing isn’t graceful or linear—it’s raw, emotional, and often disorganized. But it’s also where freedom begins.
- True self-care is a transformative journey inward, a commitment to understanding and honoring your true self. It’s about recognizing your intrinsic worth and making choices that align with your deepest values and needs
- At the heart of true self-care is acknowledging that you are worthy of care and compassion. This means embracing your imperfections, forgiving yourself for past mistakes, and nurturing a relationship with yourself rooted in kindness and respect.
- True self-care requires the courage to pause and reflect. In our nonstop healthcare world, taking time to tune into your inner world is a radical act of self-preservation. It’s in these moments of stillness that you can assess your emotional needs, identify stressors, and make intentional choices that support your mental and emotional health.
- True self-care is about creating a life that reflects your authentic self. It’s about making decisions that nourish your soul. It’s not a one-size-fits-all approach but a personalized journey toward a more fulfilling and balanced life.
Ultimately, true self-care is not something you buy. It’s something you claim. It isn’t a weekend escape or a spa day indulgence. It’s the fierce, quiet revolution of choosing yourself — day after day, decision after decision — even when the world keeps telling you to prove, perform, and please.
It’s looking in the mirror and saying, “I am worth the life I want to live.”
No product can sell you that. No ritual can replace that knowing.
It’s time to stop chasing band-aids for bullet wounds. It’s time to reclaim your right to live — truly live.