Why Cooking is One of the Most Underrated Forms of Self-Care

There was a time when I thought cooking was a chore.
And let’s be honest—so do most people.

Between the school drop-offs, work deadlines, family responsibilities, and a constant stream of digital noise pulling us in a dozen directions, who really has the energy to spend 30 minutes chopping vegetables?

But here’s something I’ve come to believe with every fiber of my being:

Cooking is one of the purest, most underrated acts of self-care.

Not because it’s trendy.
Not because it saves money.
But because it reconnects you to yourself.


Self-care isn’t just spa days and scented candles.

Self-care has become a buzzword. Scroll Instagram and you’ll find aesthetic checklists: bubble baths, beach vacations, green juice, journaling in the sunshine. Don’t get me wrong—I love all of that. But what if self-care didn’t have to be an escape?

What if it was found in the ordinary moments—the small rituals we do every day to care for our body, nourish our mind, and reclaim a little space in the chaos?

That’s where cooking comes in.


Cooking is the moment you say: “I’m worth the time.”

Think about it. Cooking is physical—you stand, you move, you stir. It’s emotional—you make decisions about what feels good to eat. It’s creative—you get to experiment and play. And it’s deeply personal. Because you’re making something for you.

Not for your job.
Not for your boss.
Not for your phone.

For you. Or maybe for someone you love.

Even something as simple as cracking an egg or pressing a clove of garlic is a gesture that says:
“I matter.”


You don’t need to be Julia Child.

Forget perfection.
Forget recipes with 23 steps and ingredients you can’t pronounce.

Cooking as self-care isn’t about impressing anyone. It’s about slowing down. About using your hands. About feeding yourself something real. About noticing how the smell of sautéed onions makes your shoulders drop just a little bit.

It’s about reclaiming something that’s been marketed to us as inconvenient—and remembering that, in many cultures, cooking together was the heartbeat of daily life.


What happens when you make cooking a ritual instead of a burden?

You sleep better.
You save more.
You feel more energy.
You stop relying on takeout that leaves you bloated.
And maybe—just maybe—you start looking forward to dinner again.

Because it’s no longer about what’s “healthy” or “fast” or “low-calorie.”
It’s about what nourishes you.


If you’ve fallen out of love with the kitchen—start small.

Put on your favorite record.
Chop an onion like it’s your first time.
Boil some pasta.
Press a clove of garlic.
Sauté something until your whole house smells like comfort.

And do it without judgment.

This isn’t about being a better cook. It’s about being a better friend to yourself.

Cooking isn’t just fuel.
It’s a conversation between you and your body.
And every time you step into the kitchen, you get another chance to listen.


Written with love,
— RainbownHome