
In an age of constant notifications, overstimulation, and social pressure, Gen Z has found an unlikely sanctuary: the bathroom. What started as a private coping habit has become a viral self-care movement known as “bathroom camping” — where young people retreat into restrooms for extended periods to rest, scroll, breathe, and simply exist without judgment. Fueled by TikTok and a growing mental health conversation, bathroom camping isn’t about plumbing — it’s about peace.
“Bathroom camping” — also known as restroom camping — refers to Gen Zers retreating to bathrooms for prolonged periods, not for bodily needs but to decompress and find mental respite. The practice became viral on TikTok in mid‑2025, featuring creators like Hendo, who described bathrooms as judgment‑free zones for emotional reset.
In one viral clip, TikTok user @hendo claims he’s been camping out in bathrooms for over two decades. “There’s nothing going on in the bathroom,” he says. “There’s no windows to look at. It’s just straight—me and me—in that bathroom.”
Bathrooms offer a rare combination of privacy, acoustic isolation, lockable doors, and a break from social performance.
Videos on social media show users turning bathrooms into personal havens—listening to music, watching reels, vaping, or simply zoning out.
Architectural experts note that bathrooms function as micro‑havens—quiet, controllable spaces that allow for sensory buffering when life feels hectic.
As one commenter put it: “My bathroom has always been my safe space and the first thing I check when moving to a new place for comfort.”
At its best, bathroom camping reflects grassroots self‑therapy: “micro‑therapy” moments when life gets overwhelming. For some, however, prolonged use signals deeper mental health issues such as anxiety, avoidant behavior, or unresolved trauma. Psychologist Cynthia Vinney said to the VICE, that repetitive seclusion in spaces like bathrooms can reflect depressive or anxious states.
Bathroom camping is often seen as a response to stressful situations or overstimulation—sometimes even as an escape from toxic environments, noisy parties, or overwhelming workplaces.
Supporters highlight its effectiveness as low-effort, cost‑free self‑care. Critics argue that in public or shared bathrooms—like offices or schools—camping can block access for others. One TikTok commenter with IBS shared: “If you’re not using it and someone knocks, let us have the room.”
Medical experts caution: bathrooms harbor pathogens, and prolonged sitting can contribute to hemorrhoids or digestive issues. Phones tracked into these spaces may carry bacteria, risking cross‑contamination.
A clinical warning: when bathroom camping becomes habitual—used to avoid work, relationships, or everyday responsibilities—it may indicate maladaptive coping.
Experts propose dedicated mental health rooms and quiet zones in schools or workplaces—spaces not tied to hygiene but designed for rest and sensory decompression.
In homes, intentional micro‑havens like cozy reading corners or minimalist pods can reduce dependence on bathroom retreats.
After all, whether you’re crying, shaving, doing skincare, or eating cookies on the floor, no one needs to know what’s happening in there. Is it strange? Maybe. But it’s also a creative way for Gen Z to find calm in a chaotic world—proof they’re not losing the plot, just looking for peace.
(Rh/Eth/VK/MSM/SE)