It was 4:30 pm on a Thursday and I’d just arrived from a post-election New York to a new “emotional wellness” hotel in Tulum. At first look, I’d assumed I was invited to microdose with a cult for three days full of “group healing” activities and ancient rituals led by an exclusive sect of practitioners.
Before I could even check-in, a barefooted man, known as one of the retreat’s “journey designers,” offered a small bottle of magical juices which tasted like kombucha. “It’s ashwagandha,” he said, as I took a sip of the wet, horse-smelling beverage proven to reduce stress, anxiety, and depression.
According to the NHS, seasonal affective disorder (or SAD) is a type of depression following seasonal patterns, with symptoms often more severe in the winter. However, with Black women, an understudied population at an increased risk of health inequity, studies show we present depression differently than others.
With over 1,500 possible combinations of symptoms and most research conducted on white people, both somatic (e.g. fatigue, insomnia, decreased libido) and self-critical symptoms (e.g. self-hate, self-blame) are often overlooked in Black women compared to common feelings of hopelessness or low moods.
Nômade Tulum’s founder, Argentinian architect Sebastian Sas, built the retreat as a community for “profound connections” and “deep transformation” in 2015. Located at the southern tip of the Riviera Maya, the barefoot retreat sits on a stretch of water which borders the dense jungle of the Yucatan Peninsula. As an emotional wellness space, their programs extend past yoga, pilates, and meditation (though classes are offered daily), into an intimate connection with the unseen versions of self.
From a Temazcal ceremony in an alchemical sweat lodge (which ended in healing tears for most) to a Sobada Maya massage to have your uterus and other abdominal organs rearranged for fertility improvements, being able to reconnect to self through at-will programs were the heart of the experience.
As someone who’s done intense healing over the past 10 years—ayahuasca, energy work, and laser skin treatments—unfamiliar wellness techniques shouldn’t be taboo. However, taking a break from the physical demand (with high payoff) of years past, I preferred to engage in less severe practices.
At the Yäan Healing Sanctuary nearby, I received a Balancing Massage to release tension I often hold in my shoulders. The “intuitive massage” was performed by a practitioner who customized her technique to my pressure points, which called in question: how does my body store tension?
Regardless of how, my beauty routine during the trip acted as a decompression tool for the weekend. From my dopamine menu makeup routine—frosted lipstick from MAC 40 Lipstick Bringbacks collection, lip pencil, PAT McGRATH LABS Mascara, and a Shiseido eyelash curler—to my tretinoin-centered skincare regimen, my morning and night routine supported the wellness activities I did throughout the day.
With America’s wellness industry built off of hyper-individualization and exploitation of trauma and insecurity, “community” healing in New York is often defined by invite-only Botox parties and exclusive wellness clubs priced up to $10,000 a month. So, finding a space for emotional health and intimate connections (outside of beauty routines and cosmetic surgery) may not feel accessible in our immediate environment.
While isolation is often seen as a form of self-care—from calls to ”protect” your energy, cut people off after any conflict, and avoid socialization to focus on yourself—human connection (and the longing for) is not a “toxic” flaw to deprive yourself of. In fact, it is the heart of Nômade Tulum.