Affirmations for People Who Hate Affirmations.
Not your influencer’s wellness zine. No promises, just reality.
Not your influencer’s wellness zine. No promises, just reality.
(You’ve been in overdrive. No one calls a car lazy when the gas runs out.)
You’ve been taught that if you stop, you fail. But rest isn’t weakness. It’s survival. Let yourself crash. You’re not a productivity robot — and even those overheat.
TRY INSTEAD: Stop doomscrolling. Stare at your ceiling. Feel human again.
(Your self-worth isn’t measured in likes, abs, or career milestones.)
You’re not behind. You’re just not broadcasting your every move. Most of what you’re comparing yourself to is curated, filtered, or fake. Quiet doesn’t mean inferior. It just means you’re busy being real.
TRY INSTEAD: Log off. Water a plant. Say something kind to yourself out loud.
(Not every worry is a prophecy. Not every thought is truth.)
Your brain’s spinning because it thinks it’s protecting you. But you don’t need to solve everything right now. Pause. Name the spiral. Breathe. The future hasn’t happened yet — and that voice in your head doesn’t always get it right.
TRY INSTEAD: Write down what you’re afraid of. Then write the opposite.
(You’re not failing. You’re just fried.)
If your only rest is guilt-ridden scrolling, that’s not self-care. You’re not lazy—you’re overextended. Capitalism doesn’t want you to slow down. That’s exactly why you should.
TRY INSTEAD: Close your laptop. Cancel a plan. Call in tired.
(Your brain might be on power save mode. That’s okay.)
You don’t have to be expressive to be valid. Emotional shutdown is protection, not failure. You’re still here. That counts.
TRY INSTEAD: Watch a dumb movie. Pet something soft. Don’t force depth.
(Everything is loud. No wonder you need to lie down.)
You’re allowed to turn down the volume on life. You're not antisocial—you’re overwhelmed. Boundaries aren’t rude. They're survival.
TRY INSTEAD: Noise-cancel. Cancel. Breathe into your hoodie.
(Cringe is proof you grew.)
You’re not defined by your awkward moments. You’re not a walking blooper reel. Everyone’s too busy rewatching their own brain spirals.
TRY INSTEAD: Laugh at it. Say “who cares?” out loud. Move on.
(Feelings don’t need permission to show up.)
Love doesn’t vanish on a schedule. You’re not behind for still caring. Grief isn’t linear—and neither is healing.
TRY INSTEAD: Cry. Delete. Re-download. Repeat. It’s fine.
(Loneliness lies. A lot.)
You’re not broken. You’re not too quiet, too loud, too anything. You're just in a season where the echo is louder than the connection.
TRY INSTEAD: Text someone weirdly kind. Hug a hoodie. Speak kindly to yourself.
(Overthinking is exhausting. So is pretending you’re fine.)
Life isn’t a test you’re flunking. You’re not behind. You’re just tired. You don’t need a five-year plan. You need a snack and five deep breaths.
TRY INSTEAD: Pick what’s easiest. Save the big stuff for later.