Self-Care Isn't About Being "Lady-Like" — It's About Taking Care of Yourself
I came across a post recently that stopped me in my tracks. A woman in her 30s, recently diagnosed as autistic, shared how her partner had criticized her for not being "lady-like" enough. She described feeling caught between who she naturally is — someone who's most comfortable in jeans, hoodies, and sneakers — and the societal pressure to present as more "feminine" with makeup, styled hair, and polished nails.
Her words hit me because that woman could have been describing me. For as long as I can remember, I've been most comfortable in jeans, hoodies, and my beloved high-top Converse shoes. I don't wear makeup — partly by choice, but largely because my highly sensitive skin reacts to most cosmetics, skincare products, and even many soaps. The joys of being a highly sensitive person, right?
Maybe you have a similar story too.
The Exhausting Effort of "Keeping Up"
For years, I tried to force myself into that "lady-like" mold. I'd attempt the skincare routines, try different makeup brands hoping to find something my skin could tolerate, and feel guilty every time I chose comfort over conventional femininity. The mental and physical effort required to maintain that persona was absolutely exhausting.
Every morning became a battleground between who I naturally was and who I thought I should be. The cognitive load of trying to remember complex beauty routines, the sensory overwhelm of products that made my skin burn or itch, the constant feeling of wearing a costume that never quite fit — it was draining in ways I couldn't even articulate at the time.
And here's what I learned: that effort wasn't sustainable, and it certainly wasn't self-care.
The Invisible Pressure We Carry
As late-diagnosed neurodivergent women, especially those of us navigating perimenopause, we're often caught in a perfect storm of expectations and exhaustion. We're trying to figure out who we are while managing hormonal changes, life transitions, and the constant hum of a society that tells us we should have it all figured out by now.
Choosing to Embrace My Authentic Style
In later life, I've made a conscious choice to embrace my style rather than fight against it. My high-tops and hoodies aren't a compromise or a failure to "try hard enough" — they're a celebration of knowing myself and honoring my needs. My makeup-free face isn't lazy; it's kind to my sensitive skin and authentic to who I am.
This wasn't an overnight revelation. It took years of understanding my neurodivergence, recognizing my sensory needs, and gradually releasing the shame I'd carried about not fitting the expected mold.
The truth is: we don't have it all together. And that's not just okay — it's completely normal.
What Self-Care Actually Means
Real self-care isn't about conforming to someone else's idea of what we should look like or how we should present ourselves. It's about understanding our own needs and creating routines that support our physical and emotional well-being.
For neurodivergent brains, routines aren't just helpful — they're essential. They provide structure, comfort, and predictability in a world that often feels overwhelming. When we try to change these routines, even for seemingly positive reasons like "looking more put together," it requires enormous amounts of awareness, energy, and often external support.
The Reality of Our Daily Lives
Some days, getting dressed is an achievement. Some weeks, remembering to eat regular meals is a victory. When you're managing executive function challenges, sensory sensitivities, and the cognitive load of masking in neurotypical spaces, adding pressure to maintain perfect hair and makeup isn't self-care — it's self-punishment.
I used to think I was being "lazy" or "not trying hard enough" when I couldn't maintain those beauty routines. Now I understand that my brain and body were protecting me from overwhelm. Choosing my comfortable clothes and skipping the skincare products that irritate my skin isn't giving up — it's listening to my needs.
This doesn't mean we can't enjoy traditionally feminine things if they bring us joy. It means we get to choose what feels authentic and sustainable for us, without apologizing for it.
Permission to Be Yourself
If you're reading this and feeling like you're not measuring up, I want you to know:
Your comfort matters more than other people's opinions about your appearance
Choosing function over fashion isn't giving up — it's being practical
Your worth isn't determined by how well you perform femininity
Taking care of your mental health is more important than having perfect nail polish
Moving Forward With Compassion
As we navigate this journey of late diagnosis, hormonal changes, and societal expectations, let's give ourselves the same compassion we'd offer a dear friend. Let's recognize that self-care looks different for everyone, and what works for neurotypical women might not work for us — and that's perfectly fine.
Your routine, your clothing choices, your approach to self-care — they all need to work for your brain, your body, and your life circumstances. Not anyone else's.
A Final Thought
To the woman who shared her story, and to everyone who sees themselves in it: you're not failing at being a woman. You're succeeding at being yourself. In a world that constantly asks us to be smaller, quieter, or more palatable, choosing authenticity is the most radical act of self-care there is.
We don't need to have it all together. We just need to take care of ourselves, one day at a time, in whatever way works best for us.
What does authentic self-care look like for you? I'd love to hear your thoughts and experiences, send me an email or message ❤️