If went “viral” - I bought it.

I recently moved to the greater Chicago area, and learning what a new normal feels like — what peace feels like — has been a welcomed change. There’s something about being in a new environment that makes you more aware of yourself. Your habits. Your routines. Your coping mechanisms.

And one thing I’ve noticed?

If I can label something as “self-care” or “well-being,” I will absolutely buy it.

No hesitation. No internal committee meeting. Just vibes and a credit card.

As I’m writing this, I’m wearing a red light therapy mask. This morning before work, I stood on a vibration plate. Do I know if either of these things are doing anything measurable? I cannot prove it. I have no peer-reviewed studies bookmarked. But I like how it feels. It feels productive. It feels like I am investing in myself in some small, glowing, slightly futuristic way — and honestly, that counts for something.

Then there’s the iPhone 17 Pro in Cosmic Orange. Did I upgrade solely because I wanted that color? Absolutely. Could I tell you one meaningful difference between this phone and my last one? Not a single one. The camera is… probably better? The processor is… faster? I don’t know. What I do know is that Cosmic Orange brings me joy every time I pick it up, and apparently that was justification enough.

And then there’s the Dawn Platinum Powerwash — apple scented. You’ll start to notice a theme here. I spray it on every dish before washing or loading the dishwasher. Is this necessary? Not even a little. Could I absolutely survive without pre-spraying every single plate like it’s entering a spa treatment? Yes. Will I stop? No. There is something deeply satisfying about the ritual. The scent. The illusion of extra cleanliness. It feels excessive in the most harmless way.

The most unplanned purchase of all was the Tineco GO H2O Sense Wet/Dry Mop & Vacuum from Sam’s Club. I was wandering the aisles on Valentine’s Day — as one does — and suddenly I was placing a full-size mop vacuum into my cart with zero prior research. Hard flooring plus a newfound desire to mop weekly (if not more) apparently justified it on the spot. “Yeah, sure,” I thought. “This feels aligned with my new era.”

And maybe that’s what all of this really is.

A new era.

When you move somewhere new, you’re not just changing your address — you’re recalibrating. You’re figuring out what comfort looks like in unfamiliar rooms. Maybe for me right now, comfort looks like apple-scented dish spray, glowing face masks, a vibration plate, and a brightly colored phone. Maybe it looks like small rituals that make a space feel more mine.

Could I live without any of these things? Of course. But they’ve become tiny anchors — little signals that I am taking care of myself in this new chapter.

Is it possible that modern “self-care” sometimes blurs into consumerism? Definitely. I’m self-aware enough to see that. But I also think there’s something honest about allowing yourself a few harmless comforts while you settle into new ground.

If peace right now smells like apples and glows red for twenty minutes a night… I’m okay with that.