Weather 
I’m scrapping my 10-step skincare routine and stepping away from the supplement stacking — I’m officially maxxed out.
You know what I mean — no matter what virtual planet you’re living on, or which digital rock you’ve been hiding under, the concept of “maxxing” absolutely everything in your life, beginning with your looks, has become near-impossible to escape.
Social media is now wall to wall with pushers of impossibly difficult beauty regimes, supplement stackers and other content creators, who — each sporting top-tier blowouts and matching Alo sets while barking step-by-step instructions on how to go from “average” to “gorgeous” — lurk just one swipe away, waiting to make you feel terrible about yourself.
In this world of constant self-refinement, every inch of one’s appearance (and really, whole life) must be primed, preened and optimized. Improvement fanatics regularly take to social media to share the endless hacks they employ to upgrade their health routines, careers and even personal lives.
The nightmare we’re now living in began with looksmaxxing — i.e., the practice of optimizing one’s physical attractiveness to the hilt — back at the beginning of the decade.
Since moving from the dark, pimply corners of the manosphere to the mainstream, the aesthetic trend has turned beauty into an impossible goal — not just for guys, but for women, too.
Watching dudes beat themselves up with hammers was kind of funny, I’ll admit. But when the niche idea leaped over the gender line, I wasn’t laughing anymore — I was too busy trying to keep up with all the latest demands for perfection.
Tape your mouth. Slug your cheeks. Wrap your hair in heatless curls, tongue-scrape, keep up with Botox, invest in laser treatments, try radio-frequency, no side-sleeping (beware of wrinkles), oil the cuticles, don’t forget the neck, tweeze those brows, whiten that smile — who has time or money for all of this?
And that’s just the face.
Wellness-maxxers and those who partake in its constantly mutating subcultures (gym-maxxing, protein-maxxing, fiber-maxxing, etc.) take it down to the body. The physical form is now expected to be sculpted, toned and supplement-filled on a 24/7 basis.
On the off chance we pause from picking apart our physical person (which must be style-maxxed to best suit body-type, face shape, complexion and aesthetic), the remaining seconds of our day can be easily filled by other maxx-culture content.
Careers can be leveled up by productivity-maxxing. Finances, by money-maxxing. Relationships, and even the self, can be optimized through couple-maxxing, mind-maxxing, and personality-maxxing. Now, you’re not just traveling, you’re travelmaxxing — whatever that means.
From soup to protein-packed nuts, it’s enough to spike anyone’s cortisol — another big maxxing no-no — just thinking about it.
Intentionally or not, the content creators who promote this culture are sending a disturbing message: Anyone who wants to be a hot, successful, not-garbage person must dedicate each waking hour (and non-waking, let’s not forget sleepmaxxing!) to the pursuit of self-optimization.
At best, living like this is unsustainable. At worst, it’s a deeply flawed way of thinking — and a surefire way to miss out on what actually matters in life.
I’ll say what we’re all thinking — enough.
Except that nobody seems willing to take the first step away from the dumpster fire. We may roll our eyes when we come across this content. But we also click, like and re-post.
Too many young men and women are trying out every new tip in dimly lit bathrooms — desperately investing in what society has labeled our most valuable asset.
Isn’t it hard enough to be a human moving through the world these days, particularly as a young, more impressionable person — without the 24/7 race toward self-improvement added to the mix?
According to multiple recent polls, Gen Z is doing a terrible job at juggling all of these unreasonable demands.
One 2025 report from Moodle on burnout showed younger people were hit the hardest — a shocking 83 percent of 25- 34-year-olds. Another by Talker Research revealed that for that age, mental health was a top stressor, along with work and finances.
30-year-old writer and content creator Heidi Becker, who goes by @unhingedheidi on social media, is going viral for pushing back on the ridiculousness. To help keep things in perspective, she told me, she regularly posts poems that satirize maxxing culture.
“You didn’t optimize by dissecting every flaw you’ve ever had and having the determination to glow up to the max?” Becker asks her 277,000 Instagram followers in one of her latest poems.
“By surgically breaking and scraping your bones, and shaping your face into a scientifically symmetrical mold that promises the perks of pretty — but requires an ever-increasing subscription of needles and stitches to avoid getting old?”
“The target is always moving — it’s like the dangling carrot that’s held in front of you, that you can never quite get,” Becker told The Post. “It’s hard not to let these messages impact you…Posting this content on the internet is a reminder of how silly it all is, and also a reminder to myself too. It’s impossible not to let these things slowly seep into your mind.”
That’s not to say there’s no place for self-growth and physical improvement — of course there’s room for nuance.
But we have to find a way to fight against this pervasive, never-enough narrative, because the alternative is chasing a ghost.
Amanda E. White, an LPC-licensed therapist and founder of the Therapy for Women Center, has seen this hyper-fixation with maxxing culture play out on a wider scale IRL with her own clients — who often come to her in a state of overwhelm after having gotten caught up in the various optimization fads, though they start with the best of intentions.
“Most of us are strapped for time and feel like life is difficult right now,” White told The Post. “So the idea of batch-cooking meals, adding fiber or protein to them, or setting up your room to ‘sleep-maxx’ all make sense. The line for me is when you can’t enjoy your life. If you are spending tons of money (on skincare, gym memberships/workout classes, etc.) or are so obsessed you get anxiety about it, this is when it stops being helpful.”
She pointedly added that self-proclaimed wellness and anti-aging gurus, such as entrepreneur/venture capitalist Bryan Johnson, have not helped the situation.
“I think about people like (him) and all the money and time he spends to try and live as long as he can — and how many times these people act as though they are the same as the average person,” said White.
“But they are not, and people are being set up for failure when they don’t realize that these people are not average.”
So what are the rest of us “average” folks to do — just lay down and resign ourselves to a less-than-optimal life?
Clearly, there is room for nuance here. Some space has to exist between the sweat-stained slobs of cartoons and the unblinking influencers who preach the gospel of endless self-upgrades, for the rest of us to fill with our striving, human messiness.
And, just maybe, to experience some level of contentment and self-satisfaction.
The trick, White thinks, lies in reinvesting the majority of our time and attention into the things that really matter — which starts with the power of face-to-face connection.
“We need to start reconnecting with people in our lives and communities, rather than constantly trying to better ourselves,” she said. “The point of wellness is to make your life better, not become your life so that you have nothing else…Being able to be in touch with others and the community — to look outside yourself — helps ground you and be less attached to your own thoughts and emotions.”
Stop staring in the mirror and go be part of society? Stop being so selfish? How sad that something our parents and grandparents were taught sounds so novel today. But why not give it a shot — sometimes, the old remedies are the best.
