I recently wrote down a list of things I can do during my downtime. Occasionally, I get a little anxious if I see gaps in my schedule, while fully understanding that no one can, or should, be working in every spare moment.

In addition to listing things like taking a walk, baking something, and listening to a podcast, I realized I really enjoy taking a few minutes to go through the steps of a skin care routine.

A couple years ago, a Google doc made the rounds. It was a detailed, beautiful list of a (self-proclaimed) “psychotic” skin care routine; it was eventually turned into a series of article for New York Magazine, but before that it was a wild look into someone else’s methodology when it came to selecting and using different products. It became famous for introducing people to all kinds of products, in addition to seeing what someone else was doing in front of their bathroom mirror.

My routine is certainly nowhere near that extensive, but I’ve found myself searching for the perfect combination of products. I have slightly oily skin prone to redness and bumps-that-aren’t-quite-acne around my cheeks, something that developed soon after I moved up to New York. This can often feel like I’m battling my skin, trying to get it to “behave” or get back to what it used to be, which feels like I’m playing into the beauty industry at large.

If I continue to not see a dermatologist (who has the time! or the budget!) and continue to try product after product, am I just supporting an industry whose main aim is to target people who feel bad about themselves? Or am I having fun taking 10 minutes of my day to not look at my phone, wash my face, apply different oils in the right order, and using a moisturizer that’s so thick I barely need to dab any on?

I see a lot of people sharing their routines on social media these days — and I love it. We’re all curious about what other people do and how they maintain their day-to-day lives. And I’m glad the language around skin care and self-care is starting to move from one of frivolity to one of empowerment.

Skin care can be fun, and not punishing. It can be meditative, and not harsh. It can be uplifting, and not a moment for self-negativity. It’s a way to nourish yourself.

I used to spend hardly any time at all on a skin care routine; maybe wipe a pre-moistened pad around my face to take care of teenage zits. But our skin changes over time — everything changes over time. So why shouldn’t our routines?