There is a moment, standing in front of your closet in the early morning, when you realize self-care has nothing to do with the outfit you’re about to wear. I’ve spent years buying candles and scheduling bubble baths the way I once bought trends — first the thing, then the questions. For a long time, none of it actually stuck.
I used to love running. I’d lace up and head out for five-mile loops until plantar fasciitis took the fun out of it. So I tried the usual lineup. Regular massages, but I always felt self-conscious on that table and couldn’t really relax — so what’s the point? Meditation, but my brain wanders and the inner dialogue never quiets down. Manicures and pedicures, only to be disappointed that nail polish, even gel, never seems to last. Journaling, which always ends with the notebook forgotten in my nightstand after a couple of weeks. Diamond painting, crocheting, clay — let’s face it, I’m just not that crafty, and the hobby felt like one more thing to do rather than a way to switch off.
My goal was simple: find something that benefits my body and mind, helps me actually unwind, and that I genuinely enjoy enough to keep doing. If I truly enjoyed any of the above, wouldn’t I still be doing it? I was tired of spending money on manicures that wouldn’t last and hobbies I couldn’t keep up with. And more relaxed? Definitely not there yet.
Then, a few years ago, my family did a home exchange in Copenhagen. We stayed in a lovely waterside apartment, and I heard a mobile sauna van would be visiting the neighborhood. With only a few days left on the trip, I decided to join in with the locals and see what the sauna was all about.
One cold canal, one long ladder
My husband, son, and I walked down to the canal and watched people jump off the deck into the water one after another. They swam around, floating and chatting, then climbed back out to warm up in the sauna. In Copenhagen, hopping into the canal for a swim is just part of life — in the morning, after work, even in the cold winter months.
It was a sunny July afternoon, but I knew the water was chilly. I couldn’t work up the nerve to jump. While my husband and son watched, I swung my legs over the edge of the deck and climbed down the long ladder, making a much shorter jump into the water below.
It was definitely cold, and my fingers and toes were tingly. But I climbed out, wrapped myself in a towel, and got in line for the sauna. When a group came out, I climbed in with a few of the other bathers and we sat on wooden benches stacked up the inside of the portable sauna like stairs.
The sauna master explained that he would pour water over the hot stones in the electric oven, add aromatherapy oils, and flap a damp towel to waft the steam around. He said the combination of heat, aromatherapy, and steam creates a relaxing atmosphere, increases blood circulation, and helps the body work through its natural sweat cycle — his own words, not mine.
I closed my eyes and tried to relax, hearing only the creak of a bench, the sizzle of water on hot stones, the soft flap of the towel. It was hot, but not uncomfortably so. It wasn’t long before beads of sweat rolled down my skin. Instead of feeling gross, the heat made me feel held in a big, cozy hug.
Twelve minutes later I stepped out of my warm hug into an exhilarating breeze. I followed the other bathers to the canal’s edge and climbed down the ladder again. This time the water didn’t seem so cold. I swam, floated, and waved up at my husband, who was taking pictures, and at my eight-year-old son, who decided he wanted to join me. He made it down the ladder and into the water for a few seconds before quickly climbing back up.
My husband wrapped me in another dry towel, worried I must have been freezing. But I wasn’t. I felt great — warmed from the inside out, refreshed, awake. The chill breeze. The warm sun. I was hooked. How could I go home and find this feeling again?
From canal to a sauna studio around the corner
Back home, I searched online for saunas in my area. I found one nearby, but it came with a hefty membership fee, so I dismissed the idea. Then, a year after my first sauna experience, I learned a new sauna studio would be opening right in my neighborhood. The membership fee wasn’t as bad as the other place. You better believe I signed up as a founding member to get a reduced rate.
For almost two years now, I’ve been hitting the sauna multiple times a week. Summer, winter, it doesn’t matter. I try to match my sauna schedule with my at-home strength training, so that as soon as I’m done exercising, I head straight over for my own private sweat session.
It’s an infrared sauna, so even though there’s no steam or heat in the traditional sense, I still get my sweat on for about 40 minutes. And while I can’t jump into a canal afterwards, I do get to stand under the 45-degree “snow shower” for some contrast therapy. The studio also has red light and chromotherapy, plus an optional halotherapy treatment.
The benefits are why I keep coming back. Infrared saunas ease soreness and boost workout recovery — I am nowhere near as sore as I used to be when I first committed to working out. The increase in body temperature can raise your heart rate, which may help boost your metabolism (could this be part of why my weight finally seems to have stabilized?). And the sauna reduces stress, which can lead to improved sleep — I also sleep like a rock these days. The icy cold shower afterwards adds its own benefits: the dramatic temperature change is said to ease pain and inflammation, and it’s a genuine mood booster. I’ve never left without a smile. (None of this is medical advice — just what I’ve noticed in my own body.)
It took a trip to Copenhagen, but I finally found the self-care ritual I’d been looking for. One I’ve been able to commit to. One that has helped my workouts and my recovery. One that leaves me relaxed and feeling great. And most importantly, one that finally stuck.
The Confidence Formula
Enjoyment + Consistency = A ritual that survives real life. The perfect self-care practice isn’t the one with the most impressive list of benefits — it’s the one you’d happily repeat even on the most rushed morning, before the closet door even opens.
A note from Isabelle
Self-care isn’t about adding one more thing to your to-do list. It’s about finding the one thing that actually fits your life — then keeping it. I hope this one fits yours.
If you’re curious about how I think about building a sustainable self-care routine, you may also enjoy:
The morning ritual that makes everything easier
Slow Sundays: a guide to rest that actually rests you