When I first walked into an organic store in Karachi, I was impressed by how beautiful everything looked – rows of glass jars stocked with ethically sourced teas, handmade soaps wrapped in recycled paper, and cruelty-free products promising a glow from within. It seemed like a refuge, somewhere I could invest in myself and my wellbeing. I picked out a rose-infused oil, thinking about how lovely it would feel on my skin and how the aroma would help to calm my anxieties. Then, almost automatically, a question crossed my mind: Where did these roses come from? How much water was utilised to grow them? How many miles had they travelled to sit on this shelf, promising my wellness?

As a young woman trying to live a healthier life while also being an environmental science student, I find it impossible to overlook the way wellness is marketed, frequently concealing its negative effects on the environment behind claims of self-care and healing. In Pakistan, the wellness sector is expanding quickly. Influencers are pushing detox smoothies, yoga studios are opening in big cities, and opulent getaways in the north offer an opportunity to unwind and get back in touch with nature. After all, who doesn’t want to feel better, healthier and more at ease? It’s tempting to join this trend. However, what happens when our quest for wellbeing runs counter to the sustainability we profess to value?

I see the flaws more and more as I gain knowledge. In the areas where they are harvested, the essential oils that are promoted as natural and pure are contributing to deforestation. Trees in Ethiopia are overused to the point of extinction due to the demand for frankincense worldwide – used in aromatherapy and meditation – and according to the Guardian, 90% of those trees may vanish by 2060 if current trends continue. The irony is overwhelming – seeking peace through nature while simultaneously destroying it.

Another paradox I find difficult to make sense of, is wellness tourism. There is a certain romanticism about taking a vacation in the mountains, getting away from the bustle of the city, and spending time in nature. However, it is impossible to overlook the strain on these delicate ecosystems when thousands of individuals descend. Mass tourism has already caused environmental stress in Pakistan’s northern regions and wellness resorts are making matters worse. The idea of a tranquil getaway is hard to reconcile with the reality that the land and the people that host them frequently suffer as a result.

Even in day-to-day wellness, inconsistencies occur. The ‘clean beauty’ trend encourages people to utilise natural cosmetics; yet, these items frequently come in single-use plastic or demand excessive resources to manufacture. Vegan skincare goods are becoming more popular, but some replace animal-derived ingredients with synthetic replacements that are not necessarily healthier for the environment. The revival of animal-based beauty products, such as beef tallow in skincare, complicates matters by raising ethical and environmental concerns (Vogue Business, 2024). The wellness industry is based on consumerism, convincing us that we always need more to be healthier, happier and better. True wellness, however, should not come at the expense of the environment.

Pakistan is at an intriguing stage in the wellness boom. Haleon Pakistan’s plan to manufacture Centrum multivitamins domestically is praised as a step towards making wellness more accessible. While this may minimise imports’ carbon footprint, I am concerned about the long-term viability of large-scale vitamin manufacturing (Reuters, 2024). What effect will this have on local resources? How can we strike a balance between accessibility and responsibility? These are the questions I find myself asking more and more.

I don’t have all the answers, and that may be the most difficult aspect. I still want to care for myself, feel good, and heal in ways that make sense to me. But I also don’t want my decisions to contribute to the problem. Perhaps true wellbeing is not about consuming more, but about consuming consciously. Perhaps it’s about going back to simpler practices – herbal treatments passed down through generations, local ingredients instead of imported superfoods, and interacting with nature without abusing it. Maybe by redefining wellness, we might discover a way to heal both ourselves and the environment around us.

Lailamah Giselle Khan is completing her undergraduate degree in Environmental Science with Business Management at Queen Mary University of London. lailamahkhan2017@gmail.com