One day, after finishing teaching a class, I collapsed on the floor of my classroom. When I told the various communities and groups I belonged to, their first response wasn’t concern—it was, “When will you be available to help again?” That moment was a wake-up call: if I didn’t make a change, I might not get back up if there’s a next time.
I began a journey of setting and enforcing boundaries—first for myself, next for my village, then for my staff, and now will speak to as many women who will listen. As a Black woman, the expectation to always be available, always be strong, always serve, runs deep. But I’ve learned that without boundaries, we have nothing left to give. We can’t give from an empty cup. Yet so many of us do.
Recently, I had to remind myself to verbally tell others to respect my boundaries as my boundaries were being disrespected. Other people were trying to railroad me into capitulating to do what they wanted me to do. The pressure to push my boundaries to the side was coming from multiple people. I almost lost myself again, but an inner strength came bumbling up to wake me up. My life is important to me just as your life is important to you.
It’s important that I continue to share my personal story, the cultural dynamics at play, and practical strategies for recognizing burnout, setting boundaries, and reclaiming agency—especially for Black women navigating professional and personal spaces where they are often overextended and undervalued.
Leave a Reply