Enough With the 100%
The Wellness Industry’s Lie of Constant Improvement and the Truth About Feeling Like Enough
I was listening to Amy Poehler talk to Rashida Jones on her new podcast, Good Hang with Amy Poehler, and she said one of the reasons she wanted to do the podcast is because she has watched so many men do the bare minimum for so long, she was also ready to just give 25%.
She was being funny, but in so many ways, serious. Women have been conditioned to believe that we must always be doing our best, showing up fully, growing constantly, giving 100% at all times, and bettering ourselves every chance we get. It’s why we’re such an easy target for marketers.
This belief that we should always be evolving, improving, chasing our "best self" is seductive and elusive, and I know this world intimately. I’ve been immersed in the self-help and personal growth space since I was 16 (!!), and I’ve spent my entire professional life working with women. I hear it and feel it, I can see it from a mile away.
I know that the personal growth mindset feels like purpose, makes us feel good, worthy, useful. Like we’re doing what we’re meant to do—making the world a better place, keeping our families healthy, getting fit so we can live longer/look better for those we love, fulfilling our potential to make an impact.
Of course we want more joy and less pain, but underneath it all is the belief that we owe it to everyone else to keep getting better. That people are counting on us to show up stronger, calmer, wiser. These are just some of the things women tell me when explaining their choices:
“I want to get more sleep so I don’t snap at my kids. So I can be more patient. So I can show up better for everyone else.”
“I’m buying new clothes so I don’t look like I’ve let myself go. So I’m taken seriously. So I don’t feel invisible next to other women.”
“I started therapy because I was afraid I’d lose it. I needed to hold it together for my family. I needed to be less reactive, more calm.”
“I exercise to keep myself in check. To stay in control at work. To not fall apart in front of my family. To not gain weight and be unattractive.”
We’re taught that wanting something for ourselves isn’t enough—it has to serve a bigger purpose, make someone else’s life better. Like caring for ourselves only counts if it benefits others too.
I listened to an NPR interview with Amy LaRocca, author of How to Be Well: Navigating Our Self-Care Epidemic, One Dubious Cure at a Time and I’m listening to the book, too. She talks about how much of what we now call "wellness" is really the pursuit of a more ideal version of ourselves, and how wellness podcasts and products zero in on women during life’s big transitions—after giving birth, hitting milestone birthdays, or navigating perimenopause and menopause—framing these moments as times we need to “get back to ourselves.” As if our past self was the real self, and we’ve somehow lost her or failed to maintain her.
And while we’re being pulled backward, we’re also being told to obsess over the future. Wear the eye cream (even teenage girls are told to wear eye cream) so you don’t look wrinkly later! Mix in the Bovine Colostrum Powder (yes, really) to support your immune system and gut health so you don’t get sick! Make sure you’re sleeping the “right” number of hours (and check your ring or Apple Watch to confirm!) so your brain stays sharp and you don’t get dementia or decline in a way that makes you a burden!
The message is that a “well” woman should always be looking both backward and forward at all times. The ideal woman is expected to keep spending, keep striving, and stay just uncomfortable enough to believe she’s not there yet. We’re always lacking, we’re always chasing, we’re always tired.
LaRocca also highlights in her book how differently wellness is marketed to men, pointing to Hims, the first wellness brand created specifically for them. Their leading product was generic Viagra. The message was simple: have more sex. While women are bombarded with messages to be younger, thinner, toxin-free, and constantly striving to be more disciplined, self-sacrificing, and in control, men are told that wellness is about their pleasure.
She also pointed out that men’s wellness is often marketed without professional or medical language, instead using a kind of “baby talk” with phrases like, “Ain’t nobody got time for bad sexy time.” In contrast, women are expected to become fluent in medical terms, to research, self-diagnose, and advocate for their own care—all within a system that still doesn’t consistently include them in clinical research. Half the time no one really knows what we need, so we’re left to become the experts just to receive adequate care.
The most important thing right now is about recognizing the culture we’ve inherited and questioning how we’ve internalized it. It’s about getting some clarity about what we actually want and need when it comes to our own wellness instead of doing what every influencer, podcaster or Goop newsletter tells us to do. (And for full disclosure, I do have a Goop exfoliator. It’s small, but I like it.)
The point is that the industry profits off our fear that we’re not enough, not doing enough, not looking good enough. It’s everywhere and we can’t do it all, so maybe we can just choose what makes us feel good and what actually helps us rest and feel like ourselves. Not because it makes us more acceptable, but because we like how it feels.
Some of it will be aesthetic, and there’s nothing wrong with loving skincare, makeup, or clothes. These things can be fun, soothing, even creative. But the idea that the next serum, shampoo, or surgery will finally make us enough, or somehow return us to who we were in our 30s or 40s? We know better, we know the novelty fades. We know the real work is internal: our outlook, our inner dialogue, the way we value ourselves.
One of the best choices I’ve made in recent years is being more intentional about where I spend money and who I spend time with. A friend cuts my hair every couple of months, and I see another friend, an esthetician, once a month. I take classes from a few yoga teachers I genuinely like. I value the excellent service these women provide, but I also value the connection, the ease, and the trust that comes from being around people I know and enjoy.
Anything or anyone that makes me feel bad about myself or tells me I should be doing more is a turn-off. But of course, since I’m on social media, I still see all the marketing on Instagram and TikTok so I’m still bombarded with the messages. I’m not immune to feeling like I’m falling behind or missing something.
Even when I buy something simple, like a new white T-shirt, I’m suddenly inundated with every version of a white T-shirt under the sun: You bought the wrong one! This is the one you need! Five stars! And I have to breathe through the noise, resist clicking Apple Pay again, and remind myself that I don’t need the ultimate white T-shirt, I just need the shirt I chose, the one I like.
As Amy Poehler said on her podcast: Enough is enough. Enough with the 100%, enough with always trying to get better and better and better. My body relaxes knowing that 25% is enough, and that most days, that’s plenty. And maybe that’s the real shift—not tuning it all out, but being able to see it clearly and still decide what actually matters. To know that we don’t have to do it all or keep up with it all, we just need to know what feels good, and what feels like enough, for us.
Well said!
Wholeheartedly agree!