The Little Luxury That Taught Me I Was Worthy

How a 9:30 a.m. Head Spa and a 5 minute Conversation Rewired my Idea of Deserving

On a random Friday, because my calendar said it was my birthday and birthdays are for buying yourself the things you will gladly gossip about later, I booked a 9:30 a.m. appointment at a new Japanese Head Spa that had quietly landed in town.

I thought, why not. It felt deliciously out of character — slipping into a spa while most people were still at their desks fielding emails.

Let me set the scene: a semi-private cabana draped in sheer curtains, spa music humming in the background, soft light designed to trick your nervous system into exhaling. You lie down on a massage table under a ridiculously cozy weighted blanket, and for the next hour a technician exfoliates and detoxes your scalp, works shampoo that feels like silk through your hair, and alternates between expert finger kneads and tools that perform the softest, most insistent rebellion against every knot in your head.

Imagine the best part of getting your hair washed at the salon, stretched into a luxurious, hour long experience.

When I emerged, my hair felt like it had been morally corrected. Cleaner than clean, if there were levels of clean that carried emotional weight. New joy. Sparkle. A minor miracle.

But this article is not a spa review.

It’s about a five-minute exchange in the relaxation room that cracked something open for me and set off a chain of thinking that I am still untangling.

She was there too, a woman in her twenties or thirties, sitting like we all do when we are trying to appear casual but are internally running a fan club of thoughts. She looked like she wanted to be invisible but also wanted to ask something.

Eventually she did. “Have you ever done this before?” she asked. I said no. She said, me neither. We both smiled at the absurdity of being in a spa at 9:30 in the morning on a random Friday.

Then she said something that stopped me.

“I’m trying to get used to the idea that I can do things like this, and feel like I deserve it.”

If that sentence were a flavor, it would be equal parts heartbreak and hope.

Here was a beautiful woman, taking up a small, brave amount of space, training herself to believe that a little indulgence does not have to be theft. It can be tuition. It can be practiced.

That got me thinking about how many of us treat small acts of kindness toward ourselves like contraband. We minimize them, postpone them, or explain them away.

When We Quietly Shrink Ourselves

So many women dismiss their own worthiness to avoid rocking the boat. We shrink, delay, and minimize until our nervous system has learned a dangerous lesson: don’t expect good things. That lesson reshapes our decisions, the boundaries we tolerate, the ways we ask and receive, and the generosity we extend to ourselves.

If that sounds dramatic, let me be dramatic.

It is.

Small omissions compound. Every time you skip the thing you want because you are trying not to cause waves, you are reinforcing an internal ledger that keeps count of why you should not take up space. That ledger becomes a habit, and habits are stubborn.

But the woman in that room wasn’t practicing something radical: she was teaching herself to belong to her own life. She was creating new evidence that she could receive without guilt.

Tiny Acts, Big Shifts

You don’t need a head spa to begin. You just need small, consistent acts that confirm the message: you are worthy.

1. Micro treats, scheduled
   Put one small delight on your calendar each month — not earned, not justified. A bouquet, a solo coffee date, a walk in silence. Keep it like you’d keep an appointment with someone you respect.

2. Romanticize Your Daily Routine
   Upgrade the basics. Light a candle before your shower, play a playlist just for mornings, reserve a favorite mug for tea. Small shifts transform maintenance into meaning.

3. Reframe the language
   Catch yourself when you say, I’ll treat myself when… and swap it for I am worthy now. Language sets the tone for belief.

4. Boundary training
   Say no once this week to something that would deplete you. Notice the mix of guilt and relief. That relief is your body saying, thank you.

5. Repeat the tiny things
   Worthiness isn’t a one-time trophy. It’s built through small, repeated actions that teach your nervous system a new story.

Choosing yourself, even in tiny ways, can feel rebellious. Many of us were socialized to equate self-care with selfishness. That’s why starting small matters. A ten-minute ritual may not look like much on the outside, but internally it rewires safety, normalizing the idea that good things belong to you too.

Self-Care Isn’t Selfish, It’s Training

The woman in the spa did something small but seismic. She sat in a dim room and practiced a new narrative, one where she could accept care without shame. She was not lavish with herself in the way Instagram defines lavishness. She was experimental. She was training.

The point is not that you need a head spa to be worthy. The point is that you need repeated, safe experiences where you receive and feel okay afterwards. Those experiences will build a new muscle. They will make the word deserving less theoretical and more practical. Over time, what once felt indulgent will simply feel normal.

A Worthiness Experiment for You

The woman in the spa wasn’t indulging. She was rewiring.

And that’s what I want you to know: worthiness is a practice, not a prize.

So here’s your experiment this week: put one thing on your calendar that’s just for you. Don’t explain it. Don’t earn it. Honor it the way you’d honor a meeting with someone you love.

Do it again next week. And the week after that.

Because you are worthy.

Worthy of care, worthy of rest, worthy of delight.

Even on a random Friday morning. Especially then.