My Bath Routine Saved My Life - This Has Nothing To Do With Products.
Life doesn’t have to be like this. As your designated 24-year-old female attempting to navigate her 20s, let me tell you — I’ve been there.
Throughout the years, after multiple trials and errors, I can’t shake the idea that I may have found the cheat code to making the most mundane life slightly magical. I used to be a girl who would sleep, eat, and doomscroll every day, finding little to no enjoyment in anything and holding onto an impressive amount of resentment toward wellness influencers.
I couldn’t wrap my head around how people managed to get out of bed every day — let alone hold a 20-step skincare routine, run a 5k, and wash it down with a green ginger concoction. I was more of a “can I squeeze a nap in before my appointment in 50 minutes?” kind of girl. I didn’t enjoy healthy habits because I simply didn’t enjoy life.
But then something changed.
After years of therapy, a few scary experiences, and trying to survive the real-life horror film disguised as growing up, I reached a point where I was just… fed up. It clicked that if something didn’t change, I couldn’t live like this forever. So I crawled out of bed and started slowly. A few years on, I can honestly look back and say those small rituals and habits that I implemented changed my life.
When I was going through a horrible time, I for some reason found myself gravitating towards the bath. I’m not talking an “everything shower.” I mean a three-hour, bottle of wine, scream-crying to Taylor Swift in insane heat kind of bath. For some reason, this was therapeutic to me.
Albeit unhealthy due to the copious amounts of red wine consumed, it did start to become the highlight of my day.
I think this is where my obsession with romanticising life began. What used to be a 15-minute wash-and-go moment turned into an hour of soul music in candlelight, taking my time to wash my hair twice and even moisturise my face after. Hailey Bieber is quaking, I know.
From here, I realised I could make almost any task slightly more beautiful. My therapist told me, “If you have to do a task, you may as well enjoy it,” and a little cartoon lightbulb lit up in my brain. Maybe I was losing my mind — or maybe the wellness influencers were actually making sense.
Treat your baths as your solace
Hygiene can be hard, especially when you’re struggling with your mental health. Instead of seeing it as a task, I began to see bathing as a spa for myself — they became somewhere I could hide and decompress after a bustling, confusing day.
Baths are free, natural healers. They combine physical, psychological, and sensory factors that nurture your body and mind. There was something about the simplicity of it that felt addictive and restorative.
Warm water physically activates your parasympathetic nervous system and signals your body that it’s finally safe to relax. It slows your heart rate, lowers stress hormones, and shifts you into “rest and digest” mode — the same state as meditation.
I found that a bath became a warm hug at the end of an overwhelming ordeal. I’d hit the water, take a deep breath, and think: “Thank fuck that’s over — I’m safe now.” And I believed it. It felt like physically washing the bad juju and vibes of the day off my body.
The overhead light in my bathroom was a harsh cool white, that kind of hurt my head if I looked at it too long. Goodbye squinting eyes — hello, three little helpers.
One candle on the cabinet.
One… delicately balanced on the toilet seat.
Not glamorous, but effective.
I am a firm “no big light” advocate. Ambiance is one of the most important things in the world to me. If the room’s cosy, I’m cosy. If it isn’t, I’m not going — and you may proceed without me.
Candlelight has a low, gentle wavelength that encourages melatonin production and calms the nervous system. I used to come out of there with heavy eyes ready to get cosy in bed and rub my feet together, drifting off into the sunset.
My life revolves around music — whether I’m lip syncing in the mirror, imagining music videos, or listening to the same album 50 times. Naturally, music became a huge part of my ritual. This really became about me listening to songs that I was feeling in that moment, allowing myself to let go, relax & really feel my emotions deeply and intuitively.
I’d create playlists for the month and play them on repeat in the bath. It became a way to melt away the day’s heaviness and process emotions through sound. I’d leave that bath feeling just a little lighter.
And anyway — crying doesn’t count if you’re in the bath, surely.
Small comforts became sacred
As my devotion to my ritual grew, I added more little pleasures:
a fizzy drink (with ice) in a fancy cup, fruit, bath bombs, essential oils — anything with a tiny dopamine hit.
I never rushed myself. I carved out time every day just for the bath. Sometimes 45 minutes, sometimes three hours — I didn’t care. I stayed in that little tub until I knew I was taking the piss, or until my heart stopped hurting even just slightly.
Taking time for me, with me was beautiful. It was the most patient and loving thing I’ve ever done for myself.
Maybe I’m just a Pisces, or maybe I’m onto something.
kianamaiart
snowghoul
gummygunk
blakekathryn
theartofmadeline