Our Earliest Memories Of Self-Care
Every Sunday morning, my mom and I had a little ritual. She’d take out a bowl of multani mitti and malai a mixture she’d lovingly prepared the night before and kept in the fridge to set. She would gently apply the cool paste all over my skin, letting it rest for about ten minutes before I rinsed it off. My skin would always feel soft, fresh, and glowing afterward. Over time, this became an unspoken tradition, a quiet act of care that connected us week after week.
One of my most grounding memories from back home is sitting on the floor while my dad gave me a champi- a traditional Indian head massage with warm oil. What began as care for the body became a quiet ritual of connection. The warmth, rhythm, and scent of oil taught me that self-care is something we learn through others. As I’ve grown, repeating this ritual has become my way of returning to that sense of belonging and balance, wherever I am.
