In a world that remains determined to deny you, self-care is a form of resistance. To hold you when everything around you seems to push in another direction. To give yourself the space and affection that, many times, you don’t even know if you deserve.
But be careful: because even self-care, if it becomes just another demand, can end up causing harm.
And in social networks, under pastel colors and inspiring phrases, a silent trap has crept in: toxic positivism.
In this article we talk about how to practice self-care from a queer and realistic perspective, without masks or filters, and with space for rest, anger and doubt.
🌈 Queer self-care: what does it really mean?
We’re not just talking about masks, baths with salts or journaling (although all of that is fine too).
Self-care, when we look at it from an LGTBIQ+ perspective, is political. It is surviving in a hostile world. It is creating networks. It is resting without guilt.
It is being able to say “today I can’t do everything” and that is enough.
For a queer person, taking care of yourself means not having to give explanations all the time. It’s finding a safe area. It is being able to talk to another person without feeling like you have to translate or justify yourself.
💢 What is toxic positivity (and why does it harm us)?
It is that tendency to demand that we be well all the time.
To think that if something goes wrong, it is because we have not been “positive” enough. To cover up uncomfortable emotions with empty phrases like “everything happens for a reason” or “if you vibrate high, you attract the good.”
And yes, having hope is important. But not if that means denying real pain.
Because LGTBIQ+ people experience microaggressions, discrimination, family rejection, fear in public spaces… We cannot and should not smile while our bodies are on fire inside.
🛠️ 5 real queer self-care practices (that don’t invalidate your emotions)
Here we are not here to give you influencer-style “wellness tips.”
We want to share practices that do really care, because they are born from context and not from marketing.
1. Allow yourself to be bad without needing to fix yourself
Sometimes the most revolutionary thing you can do is stay in your pajamas all day. Without guilt. No productivity. Just let the body breathe and the soul empty.
2. Choose who to tell your story to (and who not to)
Taking care of yourself also means setting limits. You don’t have to educate everyone. You don’t have to “be nice” to someone who doesn’t respect you.
Self-care is also preserving yourself from emotional burnout.
3. Search for a community (even if it is virtual)
A queer support network can save you. Sometimes it’s in your neighborhood, and sometimes it’s on Discord or TikTok. The important thing is that there is someone with whom you can be yourself without translations.
4. Disconnect from networks when they run out
Yes, even from “self-help” accounts.
Sometimes the feed is full of well-intentioned messages that end up being pressure in disguise. Disconnecting is also taking care of yourself.
5. Name your emotions without judgment
Instead of saying “I feel terrible”, try “I am sad”, “I am afraid”, “I feel confused”. Putting words is a way to regain control. Not to solve it, but to inhabit it.
🧠 Self-care is also structural
Sometimes we are sold that, if we are not well, it is because “we do not take care of ourselves enough.”
But something fundamental is forgotten: taking care of yourself is not always accessible. Not everyone can afford therapy, rest, time, silence.
Queer self-care also needs material conditions: public policies, security, decent housing, emotional education.
It is not just an individual act. It is a collective need. And that must also be said.
🔎 Critical reflection: what if self-care has become a form of control?
Here’s the awkward question:
Are we using self-care to truly heal… or to continue performing?
In many cases, it has become a new requirement. A consumption ritual. A way to perform better, produce more, smile online.
And that is not taking care of yourself. That’s masking exhaustion with lavender cream.
True queer self-care should allow us to stop being functional for a while. Be vulnerable. Fall and be held.
💬 How to know if your self-care is working (really)
You won’t know it from the likes, or from how pretty the breakfast photo turned out.
You will know if you feel more connected to yourself. If you can breathe a little deeper. If you don’t feel like you’re faking it.
Some signs of real self-care:
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You have moments of internal calm, even if they are brief.
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You have stopped feeling guilty for saying “no.”
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You treat yourself with more tenderness than a month ago.
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You don’t look for external validation that often.
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You surround yourself with people who add, not drain.
And if you’re not there, that’s okay too. You are on the way.
✨ Take care of yourself without being accountable
Queer self-care doesn’t look the same everywhere. For some it is dancing, for others it is sleeping. For even more, it may be to stop wearing makeup. For another, putting on heels for the first time.
There is no right way. There is no checklist. There is listening.
So if all you did today was survive, that counts too.
And if tomorrow you can only shower yourself with a nice phrase, let it be this:
“I don’t have to heal to deserve rest. I deserve rest to be able to heal.”
