Eco-Anxiety Is Real—But Is It Making Us Less Sustainable?

Somewhere between the “clean girl” aesthetic and the rise of refillable everything, sustainability went from empowering to exhausting. If you’ve ever felt mildly panicked reading a skincare label, or stared at your shelf wondering if your hyaluronic serum was destroying coral reefs, you’re not alone. Welcome to the eco-anxiety spiral—where every decision feels like a referendum on your morals, and the line between doing good and doing enough is permanently blurry.

As someone who works in beauty, I’ve seen the shift up close. What started as a genuine interest in conscious consumption has turned into a confusing, contradictory maze of green claims, plastic guilt, and emotional burnout. And the truth is, it’s not helping. If anything, it’s making people less engaged, less consistent, and ironically, less sustainable.

What Even Is Eco-Anxiety?

Eco-anxiety isn’t just climate fear—it’s the creeping dread that your individual choices are too insignificant to matter, but somehow still full of moral consequence. And beauty, with its high turnover, aggressive marketing, and ever-changing sustainability claims, has become a minefield for anyone trying to shop with a conscience.

It’s not just the packaging anymore. It’s: is this brand ethical? Is this formula reef-safe? Does this brand test on animals in some countries? Should I stop using actives because they wash into the water supply? Is it better to finish a product I already own or throw it out and switch to something “cleaner”?

The questions are valid. The overwhelm is real.

The Backlash of “Perfect Sustainability”

The problem isn’t just eco-anxiety—it’s what it’s turning into. In trying to get everything right, we’ve started to self-sabotage.

You try to replace everything with a more sustainable option. But you end up with four “eco-friendly” lip balms, three underwhelming shampoo bars, and a bamboo toothbrush that gives you splinters. The guilt of getting it wrong becomes stronger than the motivation to keep trying. And in a culture where everyone is either buying the right thing or being judged for not, we opt out.

I’ve seen it play out in conversations with friends, with readers, with myself: “Nothing I do is enough.” So why bother?

This is exactly how we lose momentum.

The Beauty-Specific Burnout

Sustainability in beauty is uniquely frustrating because we’re working with a category that’s deeply sensory, emotional, and aspirational. We’re drawn to textures, packaging, and scent. We want things to feel luxurious and effective, and when sustainability messaging starts to feel like a punishment, people disengage.

Not everyone wants to DIY a toner or cut up their shampoo bottle to recycle it correctly. And when every beauty brand is shouting over the next about what’s truly conscious, it’s easy to feel cynical and exhausted. Especially when the same brand launches a limited-edition foil-wrapped PR kit three slides later.

So What Actually Works?

Here’s the part nobody wants to say, but everyone needs to hear: you don’t have to do everything right. You just have to start somewhere.

It’s not about throwing out your plastic toothbrush and replacing everything with glass jars and bamboo sticks. That’s not sustainable either. The most sustainable thing you can do is use what you already have.

Finish your products fully. Rebuy less impulsively. Try refills when they make sense. Support local brands doing it well. Don’t fall for greenwashing labels that say “clean” or “eco” without substance. And don’t feel guilty if you love something that comes in plastic—as long as you're using it, not wasting it, and not mindlessly hoarding backups “just in case.” The goal isn’t purity. It’s consistency.

Sustainability isn’t supposed to be a personality test. It’s just a practice. One you do again and again until it becomes part of how you live, not a performance of what you care about.

There’s enough fear in the world. What we need now is function. Small, thoughtful, imperfect choices that keep us in the conversation instead of pushing us out of it. So the next time you panic about your serum bottle or your sheet mask, take a breath. Do what you can. Do it well. And then do it again tomorrow.

That’s what sustainable actually looks like.