Okay, so, I consume a lot of wellness media. My immediate impulse is to apologize for that, or to explain it, because people in the midwest generally just…don’t. And, by and large, they aren’t well, either. Not that more meditation or yoga or something is going to fix them, of course, but mostly they are interested either pretending that everything is fine or in medicating the issues under the rug and out of sight, rather than fixing the life that led them into those dark pits.

I don’t listen to podcasts, subscribe to yoga apps or buy pseudo-bullet journals (I have a real one; I don’t need one flavored in wellness) to avoid the midwestern fate, precisely — I was arguably, although not particularly knowledgeably, into this stuff during the last New Age wave in the 90s, led to it through innumerable childhood writing workshops, Pure Moods, and the persistent juvenile need to feel different — but I did have to some reckoning when I came back here from California. There — albeit, of course, with the occasional too-deep dive, funded by too-deep pockets, into navel-gazing ala life coaching and Goop — it’s not out of the norm to be pursuing wellness. No one looks at you askance, or feels like they need to chime in on whether or not they approve, of you making time in your schedule for exercise, yoga or meditation. It’s just a thing enough people do where it’s unremarkable.

Here, that is not the case. Here — especially at this time of year — it seems like people pursue misery…aggressively. “Ha HA, functioning mind and body! I’ll show YOU how to slam on the brakes!” Obviously no one is doing this consciously, but Not Giving a Shit is very much in vogue here. About others, yes, but more about oneself.

All of which is to say that yes, I do perk up like a meerkat on the savanna when some new wellness trend comes across my radar, because there isn’t a damn soul I can bounce such ideas off of out here, and I don’t want to abandon all the wellness goals I reached out in California just because I’ve returned to somewhere having goals is viewed as, somehow, embarrassing.

But there’s a rising trend even among the people I’ve been following that is frustrating: the idea that in addition to whatever one’s followers follow one for (yoga, athleticism, healthy eating, you name it) one must also market the ability to become a wellness entrepreneur.

Gag.

“Become a yoga instructor! Sign up for my YTT class for just the low low price of $500!” “Join my community of like-minded women who want to become their best selves AND make money doing it! Come to my entrepreneurial retreat in Bali for $7000!” “Learn how to sculpt your body AND your social media profile!”

No, no, and no!

Obviously I think it’s great that these people came into the power to become who they are, and to reach their audiences — which include me. I say obviously because I mean, here I am happily following their workout plans, taking their courses, listening to their podcasts, etc. But I don’t want to be them. In the last year it seems like everyone became more interested in helping people become wellness personalities than in helping people become well. 

And that sucks! I don’t want to be an entrepreneur! If I did I’d go to business school or audit marketing classes or something! What I want to do is stretch my muscles, still my mind, and build my post-pregnancy body back up. Not into some Instagram wellness goddess, either — just into me. How can you be taking yourself seriously when you proclaim to your followers that you have the ability to help them become their highest selves, when your idea of their highest selves appears to be you?

There’s so much wrong with that! The vanity, the manipulation, the slimy salesmanship. Obviously you’ve got to make a buck to survive but let it not be by telling me that I need to be you. I don’t want to be you! I want to be me! Just a more limber, flexible version of me! I don’t want to lead a class, I don’t want to be a leader of any kind! I’m quite happy being an eternal student. Let me be that. I will throw money at you to let me be that. I was throwing money at you to let me be that.

It feels like a shitty thing to resent, especially when the vast majority of these personalities — at least those I’m interested in; I read John Updike’s S. and know the Bikram fallout, I’m justifiably skeptical of the good-faith non-creepiness of male gurus of any kind — are women, whom technology has enabled to reach innumerable people they couldn’t have from whatever tiny studio they would have been slotted into on either coast, even just ten years ago. I’m sure they’re excited about what they’ve been able to achieve and want to share it with others. But…if it would be possible to save that hustle-based mindset for some separate space, that would be great. I don’t want to be an influencer, I don’t want to be coached on how to acquire sponsorship deals…I just want to do yoga. Or ride a bike. Or eat good food. Let me be the student in that. I neither want to be the teacher, nor asked to.

“Just stop whining then and don’t watch/listen/subscribe to those parts,” is the kneejerk answer. And it’s true, I don’t sign up for those parts — which is easy, since they are there to make money and cost a fortune. But it’s not their existence that bothers me — it’s the framing around them. Over the last year, all of the wellness people I follow appear to have adjusted their outlook such that becoming a disseminator of wellness content — Content with a capital C — is now the highest end goal. Not personal growth or improvement. So many people want to talk about their enlightened moment when they realized how to link business with wellness and this is the moment we are coached toward. The message is now about finding your brand, rather than finding yourself.

And that’s kind of bullshit.

If you are purporting to help people value themselves, you need to be sending the message that they are worth valuing, above and beyond their ability to ascribe a monetary value to the time they spend parroting your dogma to others. Acting like the most well you can be is when you’re making money off of telling someone else how to be well is…shitty. Like a vast wellness ponzi scheme. It will never pay off! Accept that people don’t need to become you for their wellness to be worth your time. And if that doesn’t ring true for you…maybe you’re in the wrong line of work.