How Women Across Generations Are Finally Learning To Put Themselves First

My nonna never used the term self-care. But she had her own quiet rituals. She would smooth Olay cream into her cheeks, dab on rouge, and spritz Elizabeth Arden’s Red Door behind each ear. She would tie her silk scarf around her neck, the one with tiny paisley swirls, and press a gold brooch into her lapel, a cursive M for Maria. 

She never, ever walked out of the front door without her Revlon lipstick in frosted mauve. On her nightstand sat a worn copy of Women and Beauty by Sophia Loren. The edges were soft, the pages slightly curled. I never saw her read it, but it was always there, like a private reminder of the woman she might have become if she had ever been allowed to put herself first.

To her, beauty was about dignity. It was what she held onto in the face of hardship, even if it was just in the form of a coffee table book that never saw the light of day. Still, when I suggest she rest or treat herself now, she waves me off. “That’s for women with time and money,” she says. “I don’t need all that.” But lately, something has shifted. In her mid-80s, she’s started buying herself new scarves, accepting help, and taking her espresso in the sun.

It made me wonder, how many women like her are only now, later in life, feeling they can care for themselves? Without guilt. Without being called selfish. Without waiting for permission. Across ages and life stages, in their 20s through to 70s, I spoke to women about the moment they stopped waiting for permission to care for themselves.

For Maryam, the concept of self-care didn’t materialise in one big moment. It shows up in complicated ways over time. “When it comes to beauty, I think I really started paying attention when I grew into my looks and style. That part came easier,” she says. But when it comes to mental health, Maryam admits it still feels unfamiliar.

“Even now, in my twenties, therapy feels foreign. I don’t like sharing too much. I grew up in an environment where keeping things in meant you were strong.” Her mother, she says, was the main influence in her early life. “She never really prioritised self-care. Not physically, not mentally. I think I’ve tried to do the opposite, but it’s hard to undo what you grew up around.” Her older sister, she adds, is better at indulging in beauty and shopping, but emotional well-being is still a struggle for their community.

“I do like treating myself though. I’ve been earning my own money since I was fifteen. If I want a night out with friends, I go. If I want an expensive holiday, I book it. I never hold back from the things that make me feel good.” Maryam says she may not have self-care all figured out yet, but she knows one thing for sure. “I work hard. I deserve to enjoy my life.”

It’s only in the last few years that Elle says she’s really understood how important self-care is for her wellbeing. “ In my twenties, putting myself first felt wrong, like I was letting people down. But somewhere around thirty, that started to shift.”

Growing up, in a Sri-Lankan household, Elle says she didn’t see the importance of prioritising herself. “My mum and grandma never talked about self-care. If they were struggling, they never said a word. They carried everything quietly. Looking back, I can see how heavy it must have been.”

“These days, I make an appointment with myself every morning. I walk in the sunshine. I move my body at the gym. I try to eat well, nurture my friendships, and set boundaries that protect my peace. Even something simple like reading a book instead of scrolling helps me feel more present.”

“Caring for myself is no longer something I feel guilty about. It’s how I stay connected to who I am and where I come from.”

It wasn’t until her 30s, after becoming seriously unwell following the birth of her first child, that Nicole began to understand the deeper meaning of self-care. “I worked right up to my due date. I thought that was normal. My mum worked constantly, and so did I. Rest wasn’t something I even considered.”

Growing up in a Lebanese household, Nicole says appearance was everything. “My mum and aunties wouldn’t leave the house without half a can of hairspray in their hair. My dad was a dressmaker. We were raised to believe that how you look tells the world who you are.”

“I still take pride in my appearance. I do my makeup, my hair, and I dress in a way that makes me feel good. Now, I also take care of my health. I listen to my body.” Nicole says she’s learning to let go of the pressure to be constantly polished. “I used to think I had to do it all, all the time. But I’ve started taking leave when I need it. I book massages when I can. I’ve realised I don’t have to hold everything together by myself.”

“Self-care isn’t just about how I look. It’s about giving myself the grace to slow down.”

Rosa says she first heard the term ‘self-care’ when she was a mature age student at university during a psychology lecture. “The lecturer was talking about burnout and how we needed practices to manage it. But I never thought to apply that to my personal life.” Rosa says she grew up with the belief that life was about sacrifice. “Everything you did was for your family, taking a break felt selfish, and that mindset stuck with me for a long time.”

It wasn’t until her early fifties that Rosa started seeing posts on social media about self-worth and boundaries. “Something just clicked. There were women openly sharing things I had felt but never voiced. It made me realise I was not alone, and that it was okay to give myself permission to care.”

Now, Rosa budgets for self-care. “I take short breaks away from work and from caring for my mother. I have monthly dinners with friends, facials every few months, and lazy days where I sleep in and read. But I have to plan it. If I do not book it in, it will not happen.”

“I don’t think I ever saw a woman around me growing up doing something just for herself. My mother, aunties, and neighbours were focused on the kids, the family, and the home. There was no such thing as self-care. Not even the idea of it," Rini says. It wasn’t until Rini’s daughter was in high school and more independent that she realised she could look after herself. 

“In my forties, I started paying attention to skincare, though I wish I had started earlier. I have struggled with melasma and pigmentation for years, so now I do what I can to keep my skin healthy.”

“I also only recently started going to the gym. I never felt like that world was for me. It was intimidating, and I didn’t grow up with any kind of health or fitness culture. But I am learning. Eating well, finding good skincare, and making time for my body feels like catching up on something I missed. I do not feel guilty anymore. I just wish I had known sooner that I deserved it.”

“These days, they talk about self-care like it’s a new thing. Me, I only started hearing that word from my grandchildren. They would say, ‘Gogo, you must rest, take care of yourself.’ And I would laugh. In my time, there was no such thing.”

“We woke up early. We worked hard. We cooked, cleaned, looked after children, then did it again the next day.” For Blessing, she says she never stopped to ask herself what she needed. “You just carried on. That’s what we were taught.”

But Blessing says she did have one small moment every day, just for her. “In the evening, after the house was quiet, I would take off my earrings, sit on the bed, and rub lavender cream into my hands, and that smell would help me breathe.”

“I didn’t call it self-care. I just called it my quiet moment. Five minutes before sleep. No noise, no children, no problems. Just peace.”

“You see, as women, we do not stop. Even when our bodies are tired, our minds are still running. Thinking of everyone else. Sometimes you even feel guilty to rest. As if you are lazy.” Blessing says that now that she’s older, and her children have children of their own, she can finally sit. “I don’t need much, as long as I just have one small moment to myself, that is enough.”