On the illusion of wellness
Being from Taiwan, and then spending a majority of my adolescence in the US, one of the biggest lifestyle shifts was how my family and I approached healthcare. Taiwan has one of the most robust, well-managed, equitable healthcare systems in the world. My family still pays into the healthcare scheme for me and all of my siblings so we can access services whenever we’re back; many immigrant children will resonate with the Princess Diary-esque montage, but instead of a makeover we’re getting our teeth cleaned, cavities filled, prescriptions renewed, eyes checked, and hair cut. Moving to the US came with a huge shift; we couldn’t afford to get a cavity, and if we did, we’d just manage until the next time we were in Taiwan again. I clearly remember my mother’s plight with a tooth that desperately needed a root canal, but instead only got cotton balls soaked in clove oil. My father would tell us to brush with lots of toothpaste, because it was cheaper than the dentist. I don’t really remember going to a doctor until a few years in, but the first time I had gone because I was sick (instead of vaccinations or the free annual physical) was after I started college. Although I think our healthcare plan didn’t require us to be as frugal as we were, it’s the truth that there is an unimaginably thin net between being lower-middle class and abject poverty in America.
Physical and mental health have also been co-opted by the wellness industry, a $2 trillion monstrosity that promises an elevated, happier life through powders, supplements, class passes, workout sets, crystal gua sha tools, ice molds so you can ice your face every morning [1]. When I truly think about wellness - the intangible sense of rhythm, satisfaction, and pleasure in life - I know it’s from late-night conversations with friends, setting a morning routine, incorporating movement, getting fresh air, drinking plenty of water, eating foods that make me happy, having people to lean on, and most of all, security in knowing that I can access affordable care. The material items become a way to achieve that, to make it easier, to motivate oneself, of course; but this $2 trillion economy is only possible because of a previous trailblazer (the beauty industry, worth $570 billion globally [2]) that preyed on women’s insecurities and ingrained ‘beauty’ as something that can, and should be, bought, to distract and disillusion half the population. By keeping the population focused on vitamins and superfoods (a term that truly has no meaning - try looking up *any food* + superfood and you’re bound to find an article on it), we remain falsely convinced that individualized solutions and material purchases can counteract systemic failings. Crippling healthcare debt, exorbitant price of higher education, redlining, food insecurity, privatization of basic needs, police brutality, wealth disparity, lack of an equitable housing infrastructure, over-funded military-industrial complex, loss of public services -- all interconnected issues and all to say one thing: In America, being poor is a death sentence.
The issue of an insecure social system is compounded by a heightened culture of individuality I’ve observed in the US. Most saliently, nearly all traditional metrics of success are bound to the individual: career title, personal wealth, fame, having children and a nuclear family, material goods. We have lost the understanding of the importance of community. It’s touted as the ultimate utopia, and undoubted a concept anyone off the streets would claim to value, but I argue that there is a prevalent, false sense of community that permeates our society. Too often, community is confounded with a friend group; of course, they can overlap, but community is deeper than who we interact with. It requires, first and foremost, the holistic understanding of how one’s offering is nested within a larger organism. It requires sacrifice, the recognition of agency (both your own and others), and the challenging belief that healing as a community is integral to self-care. So many crises in the last few years have demonstrated that it’s easier to retreat into self-prioritization when faced with the practical, realistic, inconvenient actions that one must embody to care for a community. COVID, Palestine, the overturn of Roe v. Wade, assassination of the UnitedHealth CEO, striking of affirmative action across higher-education, and the recently-elected facist government that make surviving ever-more difficult for the majority -- these are all examples of when community matters most, yet collective actions and conversations are systematically stifled to the benefit of the ruling minority. There have been so many great voices - Kim Saira and Frankie Simmons come to mind - that have advocated for radical inclusion and care of ourselves through actions of inclusion and care for others. As the years pass, I become more and more firmly rooted in the belief that collective action, healing, and power is the key to a more equitable and joyful life, and the lifelong lesson of curating that space will be one I hold as a priority. However, ultimately, I wish we lived in a world where grassroots movements like this were not necessary.
About once a month, I remember my two passports and I feel grateful that I could access a country that would care for me if I became incapacitated. A lot of healthy people don’t realize that the only thing standing in between them and being disabled, is luck. Accidents, infections, genetics happen all the time, and yet we treat disabilities like a personal failing. When I envision my future as an intentional curation of my values, I cannot envision myself living in a society that relies on personal wealth as a safety net. While it feels a bit hypocritical to run from this fight, I do really believe that my offering can be made valid in many different communities (US-based ones included), but perhaps more effectively in a broader society aligned with my truths. In between then and now, the call to action is, of course, to continue doing the difficult, menial, weary work of building community and to grow where we’re rooted.
References
[1] Global Wellness Institute (2024) “The Global Wellness Economy: Country Rankings. Data for 2019-2023.” Accessed 05MAR2025. https://globalwellnessinstitute.org/industry-research/2025-the-global-wellness-economy-country-rankings/
[2] Kestenbaum, Richard (2024) “The Beauty Business Keeps Growing But It’s Missing A Huge Opportunity.” Forbes. Accessed 05MAR2025. https://www.forbes.com/sites/richardkestenbaum/2024/06/27/the-beauty-business-keeps-growing-but-its-missing-a-huge-opportunity/