Wellness, Self-Care, and the Need for Real Structural Change | Op-Ed
By: Jamila Gomez
Wellness is everywhere. It’s in the apps on our phones, the aisles of our grocery stores, the curated corners of social media urging us to “breathe, reset, and find balance.” It’s sold through yoga mats, green juices, therapy-inspired journals, and weekend retreats designed to make us forget the weight of our daily lives. The message is consistent: if you invest in yourself—your body, your mindset, your routine—you can create calm no matter what chaos surrounds you.
But here’s the problem: the chaos isn’t always of our own making, and no amount of lavender oil or positive affirmations can erase it. The wellness industry has built an empire on personal solutions to systemic problems. It tells people to “self-care harder” while ignoring the fact that much of what keeps them unwell—low wages, unaffordable housing, unsafe workplaces, systemic racism—cannot be fixed by buying another product or waking up at 5 a.m. for meditation.
This disconnect is more than frustrating—it’s dangerous. When wellness ignores structural harm, it subtly shifts the blame onto the individual. If you’re burned out, you must have skipped your morning routine. If you’re anxious, maybe you didn’t manifest the right mindset. Struggle becomes evidence of failure, rather than a natural response to being overworked, underpaid, or constantly on guard. The very people most in need of care end up feeling like they’re not doing enough to “heal.”
And who exactly does wellness center? The glossy branding usually assumes a person with disposable income, flexible time, and access to safe environments. But for the single parent working double shifts, the caregiver who cannot clock out, or the essential worker living paycheck to paycheck, “just slow down” is not advice—it’s mockery. Those who need relief most are often the least able to access what’s being sold.
None of this means that wellness practices are useless. Many people find genuine comfort in meditation, journaling, or movement. The problem isn’t the practices themselves; it’s the narrative that these rituals alone can undo what society has broken. Wellness without justice is incomplete.
If the industry really wants to live up to its promise, it has to start telling the truth: personal rituals cannot replace structural change. True wellness is collective. It’s affordable housing, safe workplaces, accessible healthcare, and communities where survival isn’t mistaken for thriving. Without that, the industry is just selling candles for a house still on fire.