There are many things that are difficult about being a student, whether you’re in high school, undergrad, junior college, or graduate school. Being a student often means changing your work schedule (or stopping work altogether), finding internships, actually doing your internship, and trying to balance time with family and friends. And somewhere in all of that, we’re also expected to find time for ourselves.

 

We often hear ourselves say things like, “I’m so stressed out because I’m in school,” or “I’m supposed to feel this way—this is graduate school.” But what might surprise you is that those statements actually reflect a couple of cognitive distortions: normalizing distress to the point that we stop questioning it, and assuming our stress is unavoidable or unchangeable simply because of our role as a student.

 

When you’re a student—whether part-time or full-time—it can become incredibly easy to write off any meaningful decompression time. Sometimes it’s so automatic that we don’t even notice we’re doing it. Maybe you’re also working full time, or you’re a parent or caregiver during every hour you’re not in class or completing assignments. Whatever your individual circumstances may be, there is one thing that tends to be universal among students: feeling overwhelmed and chronically stressed.

 

You might be thinking, “I already know that—I don’t need to hear it again.” And yet, many of us avoid fully acknowledging just how overwhelmed we feel. Instead, we push through, telling ourselves we’ll rest later—after the assignment is done, after the exam, after the semester ends. But what if we practiced actually pausing and acknowledging the stress, even when it feels uncomfortable? Even when we feel like we should be reading, studying, making a grocery list, or folding laundry?

 

Allowing ourselves to sit with that discomfort—and to challenge the constant “go, go, go” mindset—is hard. Really hard. At first, our minds may fill with thoughts like, “I should be doing something else,” or “This is pointless; my stress won’t change.” But if we can stay with it just a little longer, we may begin to feel more connected to our bodies and internal cues. From that place, we can ask an important question: What do I actually need right now?

 

When we slow down enough to ask that question, we often realize that some of our needs have been neglected for a long time.

 

Social media and academic institutions love to promote “self-care,” but what does that even mean? How can something so personal and subjective be prescribed in a one-size-fits-all way? The truth is, you are the expert on what you need. Maybe self-care looks like a manicure or a facial to help you get through the week—and that’s valid. But it might also be something much simpler: cooking yourself a real meal, putting your phone down at 9 p.m. to get a full night’s sleep, or giving yourself five quiet minutes in the morning or at night to decompress.

 

Self-care doesn’t have to be impressive or Instagram-worthy. It just has to be for you.

Excuses can feel comforting because they justify our patterns—even the ones that aren’t serving us. But neglecting your mind and body because you’re a student, or because something feels urgent, often comes at a cost. We can only continue to learn, grow, and show up as our full selves if we are nourishing our needs beyond the roles we hold—student, parent, caregiver, worker, sibling, or child. Taking care of yourself is not separate from being a student; it’s what allows you to be one.

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- Antonina (Nina) Brandt