low-energy habits that improved my mental health

there was a time when i thought self-care had to be loud—morning alarms at 5 am, skincare routines with 12 steps, planners filled with color-coded tasks. but i was tired, and no amount of productivity hacks could fix the deep exhaustion that settled in my bones. so instead of chasing a version of self-improvement that felt like a second job, i started looking for small, almost invisible things that made life feel softer. things that required no effort but still felt like care.

here are the habits that changed everything—not in a life-altering way, but in the i feel okay today way, which honestly, might be more important.

1. keeping an “everything is fine” outfit

some days, even the smallest decisions feel like too much. what to wear, what to eat, what task to start with—it all piles up, and before i know it, i’m lying in bed staring at the ceiling instead of getting dressed. that’s why i have an “everything is fine” outfit. the kind of outfit that requires zero thought but still makes me feel put together. for me, it’s a baggy hoodie and my stretchy leggings. for you, maybe it’s a monochrome black set, a cozy sweatshirt that makes you feel hugged, or that one dress that always makes you feel a little more yourself. it’s about having a go-to uniform for the days when even choosing feels exhausting.

2. the “just one thing” rule

i used to be the kind of person who wrote long, ambitious to-do lists, only to end up avoiding them altogether. there’s something paralyzing about seeing twenty unchecked tasks staring back at you. so instead, i started asking myself: what’s one thing i can do today that will make tomorrow easier? maybe it’s washing two dishes instead of the whole sink. maybe it’s responding to one email instead of tackling my entire inbox. maybe it’s setting out my clothes for the next day, so i don’t have to think about it in the morning. doing one thing is doable. and most of the time, doing one thing leads to another.

3. doing things at 70% effort

i used to believe that if i wasn’t doing something perfectly, it wasn’t worth doing at all. if i couldn’t cook a proper meal, why cook at all? if i didn’t have the time to do a full skincare routine, why bother washing my face? but perfection is exhausting, and nothing ever gets done when you’re constantly waiting to do it perfectly. so now, i let myself do things at 70%. not great, not terrible—just done. i’ll wipe the counter without deep-cleaning the entire kitchen. i’ll go for a ten-minute walk instead of an hour-long workout. i’ll send the text even if it’s not worded perfectly. and life still moves forward.

4. drinking out of a wine glass for no reason

this one sounds ridiculous until you try it. but there’s something about drinking anything out of a wine glass—water, juice, iced coffee—that makes life feel just a little more cinematic. like i’m the main character of a quiet, beautiful moment. i started doing this on days when i felt a little dull, a little disconnected from myself, and somehow, it made everything feel a little softer, a little more intentional. try it.

5. building a “background noise” playlist

music is great, but sometimes, even that feels too much. so instead, i have a playlist of background sounds—the kind that fill the space without demanding my attention. my personal favorites? the distant chatter of a café, the soft hum of a jazz record playing in another room (especially japanese jazz), the sound of rain on a window. it makes my home feel warmer, lived-in, like i’m in the middle of a quiet, beautiful scene from a movie.

6. replacing “self-care” with “self-comfort”

the problem with self-care is that it often feels like work. taking care of yourself can start to feel like another thing on the to-do list. so instead of asking, “what should i do to take care of myself?” i started asking, “what would make me feel safe and cozy right now?” sometimes that means taking a long bath, but other times, it just means sitting on the floor for a while. or putting on an oversized sweater. or making tea, not because it’s a ritual, but because it’s warm and nice to hold.

7. turning the lights low at night

there’s something jarring about going from the warm glow of the day to the harsh brightness of overhead lights at night. so now, as soon as the evening settles in, i switch to lamps, candles, or even red light—anything softer than the sharp glare of a ceiling light. it makes my home feel like a place to unwind, rather than just another space where i’m supposed to be productive. the shift is small, but it signals to my brain: you can relax now.

8. wearing perfume even when i’m home

there’s no logical reason to spritz on perfume when i’m just sitting at my desk or lying on my couch, but something about it changes my mood instantly. it’s a reminder that i don’t have to be anywhere special to feel a little more like myself. and scents have a way of carrying memories—sometimes, wearing my “going out” perfume at home makes an ordinary day feel a little more glamorous, like i could be stepping into a café in paris or a bookstore in new york instead of just my kitchen.

9. romanticizing my morning coffee

i used to drink my coffee mindlessly, sipping while scrolling, barely registering the taste. but now, i let it be a moment. i take a second to breathe in the smell before the first sip. i drink it from a cup i actually like, not some random mug. sometimes, i pair it with a book, sometimes with a slow morning playlist. it’s five minutes of my day where i’m not thinking about what’s next—just here, just present.

10. keeping something soft within reach

a plush blanket, a cozy sweater, even just a pair of fuzzy socks—there’s something grounding about touch. when i’m anxious, tired, or overstimulated, reaching for something soft instantly soothes me. it’s like a physical reminder that comfort is always within reach.

11. sitting outside for five minutes a day

i used to think “getting fresh air” meant going on an hour-long walk or having a full outdoor workout. but now, i let it be easy. stepping onto my balcony for a few minutes, feeling the breeze on my face, letting the sun hit my skin—it’s small, but it resets my brain in a way nothing else does.

12. letting myself be bad at things

i used to feel guilty about hobbies if i wasn’t good at them. painting, dancing, singing—if it wasn’t perfect, i felt like i was wasting my time. but now, i let myself do things just for the sake of doing them. doodling, writing random thoughts in my notes app, singing badly to songs i love—none of it is for an outcome, and that’s exactly why it feels so freeing.

13. ending the day with a low-effort joy

not everything has to be productive. some nights, i watch a show i’ve already seen a hundred times. some nights, i scroll through pinterest and romanticize random aesthetics. some nights, i listen to an old playlist and let myself feel nostalgic. i used to think i had to “wind down” in a correct way—reading before bed, meditating, avoiding screens. but i’ve found that joy, even in its simplest form, is what truly helps me sleep well.

the thing about low-energy habits is that they aren’t about changing yourself. they’re about meeting yourself where you are—in your tiredness, your messiness, your in-between moments—and making them just a little softer. because maybe, self-care isn’t about fixing anything. maybe it’s just about making life feel a little more like yours.

the best part about these habits is that they don’t ask much of me. they don’t require discipline or motivation or a whole new version of myself. they just slip into my day, small things that make life feel easier instead of like another thing to optimize.

i think for the longest time, i believed self-care had to be earned—that i had to hit a certain level of productivity or exhaustion before i was allowed to slow down. but the truth is, the softest, quietest things are often the ones that keep me going. a warm drink. a familiar scent. five minutes of fresh air.

maybe taking care of ourselves isn’t about effort. maybe it’s about letting things be gentle.