Like so many things that have gone from artisanal to industrialized, self-care, as a concept, has become a bit diluted and at times misunderstood.

A similar thing happened to cheese during WWII, when—in an attempt to fill the void left by European cheeses that were no longer arriving in suitable quantities in the US (for understandable reasons) and to ensure troops fighting overseas had sufficient dairy product in their rations—the US government made significant investments in a heavily processed type of cheese that was at the time known as “American cheese,’ but which became known colloquially as ‘government cheese” after it became a standard component of US school lunches and food supplies provided to welfare beneficiaries.

This cheese, though still technically cheese, was produced in a very different way from its Old World kin.

Rather than coagulating milk protein into a solid, sliceable texture, American cheese is made up of traditional cheese ingredients which are then ground up, blended with emulsifiers (ingredients which help other ingredients mix and stay mixed), and then super-heated to form a homogeneous mixture that is both pasteurized and ready to be poured into a mold: often a brick or tiny, flat squares that are then packaged as individual cheese slices.

American cheese is simultaneously seen as a testament to the innovative capabilities of United States and its people, and a testament to how a beloved product can be commoditized and ruined if we apply new metrics of success to it.

In this case, American cheese is far superior to other cheeses in terms of shelf-stability, multifaceted utility, and its capacity to take on differing textures and flavors. It’s also far less time- and resource-intensive to make, compared to its European progenitors.

At the same time, American cheese is commonly seen as a cynical abomination by the culinary world: a product that is technically cheese but which manages to miss the point of cheese, and the reason it has traditionally been produced in comparatively inefficient ways.

Self-care is similar to cheese in that the concept has branched out into more-sellable and less-sellable versions, and in that both are valuable for different reasons.

The more heavily marketed and easily sellable version of self-care comes packaged with a variety of supplementary concepts, ranging from the spiritual to the psychological. These concepts are often branded ideas with capital letters, defining complex concepts in simplified terms that make them easier to write about, but which also makes that concept trademark-able.

The far less sellable version of self-care is more about basic concepts that we all kind of know already, but which are valuable to be reminded about from time to time.

To be given permission to take a step back and breathe deeply in stressful situations generally falls into the less-marketable self-care category. The same is true of drinking more water, getting more consistent sleep, surrounding yourself with people who affirm you rather than people who drain you, and consuming more intentionally, rather than as a form of therapy or out of habit. These are all things we kinda’ sorta’ know without having to be told, but if the ideas are expressed correctly, the reminder itself can be valuable.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with a more marketable version of self-care, just as there’s nothing inherently wrong with American cheese. Both serve different purposes than their more traditional, less brand-worthy counterparts.

It’s helpful to be aware of which cheese and which self-care ideology we’re being exposed to, however, so we don’t become dogmatic about a particular flavor of proper noun-laden feel-goodery, or remain completely ignorant of cheeses that don’t come packaged by the slice.

Having a better understanding of the bigger picture, in both cases, makes it easier to appreciate each specific approach, each specific flavor and texture, for what it is, and what it does well. And that understanding makes it more likely that we’ll be able to utilize each cheese and each wellness-focused concept where it is best applied, rather than seeing it as the only viable option for any purpose; an unfortunate state of affairs that would leave us no option but to eat Kraft Singles with our charcuterie, and no bad-day solutions other than shouting trademarked mantras when what we probably actually need is to breathe deep and get a little more sleep.