Intentionally Internationally Me

January

Nowadays, wellness and its associated fancy buzzwords flood social media, advertisements, blogs, and hotel promotions — wellness, wellbeing, longevity, mindfulness, me time… not to mention the “mandatory” trends, diets, superfoods, and miracle supplements… pilates, matcha, collagen, hyaluronic acid, and so on. No wonder people feel lost, and even in the wellness space, there’s almost a pressure to ask: am I doing the right things? Am I doing them well enough? Am I falling behind? Am I eating right? Should I be buying this?

Before I start sharing my monthly wellness challenge reports for 2026, I want to try to explain what “wellness experience” means to me — in my own interpretation. I hope I’ll find a better way to phrase it along the way, because I’m not particularly fond of the term “wellness experience” myself.

The concept of wellness is often discussed in relation to overall health and quality of life. The World Health Organization (1948) defined health as “a state of complete physical, mental, and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity.” This definition laid the foundation for modern interpretations of wellness by emphasizing that well-being extends beyond physical health. Later, Bill Hettler, co-founder of the National Wellness Institute and a key figure in the development of contemporary wellness theory, further expanded the concept. Hettler (1976) described wellness as “an active process through which people become aware of, and make choices toward, a more successful existence.” Together, these perspectives highlight that wellness is both a holistic condition of well-being and an ongoing, proactive process of maintaining and improving one’s physical, mental, and social health.

So, when we look back at how experts have defined wellness, we can see that it’s an incredibly broad concept — broad enough to accommodate everyone’s own interpretation. So broad, in fact, that I’d even argue this kind of conscious process can never look the same for any two people. We are influenced by so many factors that what we need as a wellness experience to thrive — mentally, physically, or socially — can shift from month to month. And perhaps that’s also why I chose this challenge. To become more intentional in this area too — not to follow a fancy trend, but to seek out what I genuinely need to feel “okay.” Because when I’m okay, my family is okay.

I always feel it’s important to say this, because somehow over the years wellness has become intertwined with the concept of luxury — not necessarily in terms of services, but there’s often a sideways glance at mothers who are trying to pull themselves together so their energy levels are sufficient to keep the family running, with comments like “oh, she always has time for herself, massages and whatnot — instead of being with her kids / working / cooking / etc.” And yes, I am one of those mothers who feels guilty taking time for herself. But I’ve had to accept that you do need to recharge somewhere.

But back to the wellness challenge. If we set aside the trend madness pouring out of social media — the cha-cha-matcha, GLP-1, and everything else — and revisit the original definition, we can see that one of the most beautiful things about the concept of wellness is that it can mean something different to everyone. It’s such a broad concept that it encompasses the social and the solitary, silence and noise (like music), indoors and outdoors, warmth and cold. So in this challenge, I’m going to explore whether I can find — not the same ritual every month — but what I actually need in each month, in each season of the year, to do something for my mental and physical wellbeing.

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January: Bathhouse, Flatiron

January was brutally cold. They say New York hasn’t seen temperatures this low in a very long time. One evening we came out of a restaurant and it was -25°C (I’m still learning Fahrenheit). I don’t think I’ve ever felt cold like that in my life. It’s understandable, then, that during this period you genuinely crave physical restoration.

January was already cold, but we didn’t yet know it would last this long or get even colder. Since university hadn’t started yet, I took the opportunity and finally made it to Bathhouse in the Flatiron. On one hand, I was genuinely curious from a professional perspective — this kind of concept, social wellness, is a rapidly growing trend not only in independent bathhouses but also in the hotel industry (I’ve worked in hospitality for 15 years). And as someone who comes from Central Eastern Europe, where bathing culture is simply part of everyday life, I was curious what a bathhouse experience looks like here in New York.

Bathhouse perfectly confirmed what we’ve been seeing as a trend in the wellness industry for some time. A place for a bathing experience — with friends, on a date, or alone. Wellness has simply become so widespread that it’s now a social activity too. As a Central European, this doesn’t surprise me — Central Europe is full of baths and spa towns: Germany, Czech Republic, Hungary. Perhaps that’s exactly why I’m so glad that this bathing culture is beginning to spread worldwide.

The space is essentially divided into two clearly distinct areas: the lively social zone and the quiet rest area. In the social zone there were several pools with larger groups enjoying animated conversations — lovely to see. There were also multiple saunas at different temperatures, and a steamy, hotter space called a Banya. I hadn’t seen anything like that before, and it was honestly my favorite part — it was the biggest novelty for me. I also attended a sauna session, though that turned out to be less successful: far too many people, and the hygiene didn’t feel adequate. I love a sauna session in principle, but with that many people, the meditative magic just disappears.

There was also a proper cold plunge, which I genuinely love and which sadly not every spa provides. I found it interesting that in the louder social area, every seating and lying surface had a hard leather finish — almost encouraging movement. Meanwhile, in the quiet retreat area, plush, comfortable beds await those seeking rest.

What surprised me and I didn’t quite love — hygiene (though this is something I generally struggle with as a European in America). The rules around it, and the eating situation too: while the dining area is on a separate level, and I understand that space is tight in New York… somehow it still feels odd to me to see people eating in wet swimwear, half-undressed. These are probably just cultural norms. What was genuinely bothersome, though, was seeing people bring plastic water bottles into the sauna — which I think is actually quite unhealthy, since everyone sitting in there breathes in whatever materials leach out.

I also tried a Turkish hammam treatment within Bathhouse — and had to accept that it wasn’t quite right either. There was a distinct “factory” atmosphere: people moving in and out of treatments in a steady stream. You could see each therapist was working very hard, but the intimacy wasn’t quite there. So from that perspective, the satisfaction wasn’t complete.

Everything else was wonderful — and observing the cultural differences actually made the experience even more interesting. Just as you can see on the surface of New York, you see it below ground too: an enormous variety of people, in appearance and behavior alike. From the loud and boisterous to the beautifully sculpted meditators. But that’s one of the things that makes New York special — and why those of us who love it, love it. I spent a few hours with myself, recharged physically, and walked out with a head full of inspiration — both personal and professional. It was absolutely worth going. Even if I’d rate the overall experience a 7/10 from a strictly professional standpoint.

But the challenge isn’t about always being in the perfect wellness location. The challenge is about making the time — and finding in it the recharge that is needed, wanted, in that moment.

Intentionally. Internationally. Me.