Radical Self-Care Begins with Boundaries (Part 1): A Personal Journey
This is Part 1 of a 2-part series on boundary work. The second half, coming next Monday, will focus on the challenges of setting boundaries, honoring your boundaries, and practical tools for reflection. It will also be grounded in the work of Nedra Glover Tawwab, author of Set Boundaries, Find Peace: A Guide to Reclaiming Yourself
We often hear about the importance of self-care, but rarely do we hear that boundaries are our foundation. Without them, everything we pour into ourselves can be depleted the moment someone else asks for our time or emotional labor. As a Black woman, I am too familiar with the pressure to be strong, to be the caretaker, to be everything for everyone. Society praises women like me for our resilience, yet our well-being is rarely centered. Setting boundaries is about flipping that narrative—it’s saying, “I deserve the same care that I offer to others.” Setting boundaries is a radical act of self-care. It’s about reclaiming our time, energy, and authenticity.
Boundaries are often misunderstood as requests or demands, but they are fundamentally different. A request is asking for something you want, often leaving room for negotiation. A boundary, however, clearly defines what is acceptable to you, regardless of someone else’s agreement. As Drs. Henry Cloud and John Townsend explain in Boundaries: When to Say Yes, How to Say No To Take Control of Your Life, "Boundaries define us. They define what is me and what is not me." This distinction is crucial in holding others accountable while respecting ourselves.
Reading Boundaries helped me understand the importance of staying on my side of the fence. Their definition of boundaries as "anything that helps to differentiate you from someone else, or shows where you begin and end" gave me the language to articulate my needs and responsibilities. It allowed me to redefine my relationship to closeness, learning that I can hold space for myself without abandoning my own needs for the sake of others. This realization became a turning point, one that prompted me to take my own advice and truly do the work I had been guiding others through. It was time to integrate the lessons I had been teaching into my own life and embark on a journey of deep, personal transformation. I hope that as you read along, you will be encouraged to do the same.
Doing the (Boundaries) Work
In 2022, I held my first retreat. During the preparation, my therapist asked me, “When are you going to start doing the work you do with your clients on yourself?” Her question, a calling in if you will, was a gut punch. While I had been guiding others through these activities, I had not given myself the space to experience them fully. My therapist’s calling in was an invitation for me to participate in the exercises I had created, alongside the leaders of the retreat. Fully immersing myself in the work in real-time with my participants was transformative for me. I want to share two of the most impactful exercises with you:
Universal Basic Needs Exercise. One exercise that profoundly impacted me is the List of Universal Basic Needs, adapted from Bay Area Nonviolent Communities. This exercise helps identify and name needs, which is essential for setting boundaries. Through this work, I discovered my own needs: to be seen, to experience liberation, emotional safety, discovery, to be heard, ease, and dignity. Understanding these needs, along with my core values and strengths, has become my compass toward authenticity. Doing so has allowed me to challenge the narrative that, as a Black woman, my needs are not important. I can let go of the superwoman role and embrace the reality that I deserve care, too.
Journey Line Exercise. The Journey Line exercise involves looking back at your life, from your childhood to the present, to unveil significant events (both positive and negative) that shaped your experiences. Using guiding questions to help identify these critical moments, I asked participants to write down 6-10 events along with the prevailing belief that formed as a result of what happened to see what themes emerge.
By examining my Journey Line, I have been able to identify and release stories that do not belong to me—stories like 'bastard child,' 'burden,' 'protection is a scarcity,' 'unlovable,' 'too much,' 'my needs don't matter,' 'constant conflict is normal,' 'wearing a mask is a survival apparatus,' 'Black women are superheroes,' and 'men are childish.' The Journey Line helped me see the critical moments in my early life that shaped my attachment style and influenced my decisions to always protect myself by remaining strong, even at the cost of my own needs.
My Origin Story: How My Boundaries Got Blurred
When we are within that story, it is very difficult to know that it’s just a story. What makes those stories seem so real (hard to recognize as “just stories”) is that they were being told before we were born. We’re born into stories that keep us from accessing our genius. We grow up among those stories and become like fish that aren’t aware of the water they’re swimming in. –Gay Hendricks
It’s no secret that my mother left me with my maternal grandparents when I was just four years old. This experience of abandonment deeply shaped my understanding of safety and trust. Growing up with an emotionally immature and unavailable mother (and grandfather) influenced my development of an anxious attachment style. This early attachment experience left me feeling that my needs were secondary—that they didn't matter. These narratives fueled a cycle where I would attend to others' needs first, putting my own aside, even when it led to a shame spiral. It took time to realize that the shame I was feeling didn't belong to me; it was a response to needs that were never properly met. It instilled in me a belief that I had to be strong and that I had to take care of myself because those I depended on might not always be there. This is where my protective nature as an Eight comes from—it’s about making sure I’m never left vulnerable again.
ChiChi Agorom, in The Enneagram for Black Liberation: Return to Who You Are Beneath the Armor You Carry writes, “For Eights, there is often a story that says softer feelings don't align with the narrative of strength.” This story can prevent us from experiencing the fullness of our humanity, keeping us locked in cycles of overprotectiveness and isolation.
Gay Hendricks, in The Big Leap: Conquer Your Hidden Fear and Take Life to the Next Level, similarly speaks to how our stories often keep us from accessing our genius: He identifies four fears and related false beliefs that hold the “Upper Limit Problem” in place. These fears include: (1) feeling fundamentally flawed; (2) disloyalty and abandonment; (3) believing that more success brings a bigger burden; and (4) the crime of outshining. For me, the hidden barrier is believing that more success brings a bigger burden. I was stopped in my tracks when I read this reflection from Hendricks:
The moment I made my appearance in the world, I was greeted with two big mixed messages: you're a burden; and you're a celebration. I was a burden to my mother, but a cause for celebration to my grandparents.
Gay goes on to explain why: his father died a few weeks after conception, leaving his mother with three hundred dollars, his older brother to raise, and, unbeknownst to anyone, him in the womb. This overlaps with my own origin story—my mother came home from college just weeks before I was born, announcing she was pregnant. She had never received any prenatal care and had hidden her pregnancy during her first semester of college in Texas, which was about 1,500 miles away from home. The duality of being both a “burden” and a “celebration” deeply resonates with my early narrative, shaping my understanding of success as something that could bring both joy and increased weight. This belief has often made me feel that achieving more would lead to even more responsibility, adding weight to my already heavy load, and fueling my reluctance to embrace rest or vulnerability.
Over the years, I've noticed that my successes—whether it be earning advanced degrees or receiving awards—have not always been met with celebration from those closest to me. This lack of acknowledgment has reinforced the belief that more success only brings more burden, making it difficult for me to fully embrace my achievements without fear of the additional weight they might carry. Moreover, the stories I am unlearning are also reinforced by how I relate to those I care for most deeply.
Attachment Theory
Attachment theory explains how early relationships shape our behaviors in adulthood. Individuals develop styles—secure, anxious, avoidant, or disorganized—based on early caregiving experiences. Based on my early experiences, my attachment style is insecure-anxious, leading me to become overly focused on others. By trying to control my environment, including the behavior and emotions of those around me, I sought a sense of safety. In Boundaries, they explain that without clear boundaries we often attempt to manage others to maintain our own sense of security. Julie Menanno notes that anxious individuals are often hypervigilant, prioritizing others' needs above their own to create stability. This anxious attachment led me to crave closeness and fear rejection, making me hyperaware of others' emotions and prone to overextending myself.
Menanno describes how anxious attachment can lead to an overwhelming need for reassurance and difficulty trusting others to meet our needs. This often leads to overfunctioning in relationships, especially when paired with someone with an insecure-avoidant attachment style—someone who values independence and may see emotional closeness as a threat. This pairing can reinforce negative beliefs about worthiness and belonging. Recognizing this as an opportunity for growth allowed me to make different choices—to establish boundaries and choose growth instead of emotional dependence. This is where understanding the difference between requests and boundaries became critical. As Resmaa Menakem explains, “Clean pain is the pain we experience when we take responsibility for our growth.” Setting boundaries involves enduring clean pain—choosing to stand in my integrity rather than expecting others to cater to my needs. He writes, “In every relationship, we have a choice: to grow up or to stay emotionally insecure.” This message resonates deeply with me as I navigate my own attachment tendencies. My anxious attachment style, when paired with an avoidant partner, often kept me in a cycle of emotional insecurity. However, recognizing this as an opportunity for growth, rather than feeling stuck in old patterns, has allowed me to make different choices—to establish boundaries and choose to grow, rather than remain in a state of emotional dependence. Establishing boundaries has allowed me to step back and focus on my needs rather than managing others for a false sense of security.
The Power of Reframing Our Stories
Reflecting on these stories has allowed me to question the inner dialogue I carry—like asking myself if the belief that “my needs don't matter” is truly my own or a product of unmet emotional needs from my childhood. This reflection is essential for releasing what isn't mine and reclaiming the space to define myself authentically. Understanding the Upper Limit Problem and my own hidden barriers has helped me recognize when I am unconsciously limiting my own success out of fear. In this journey, I have had to engage in healing-centered reframing to dismantle harmful beliefs, such as:
Even if my needs don’t matter, I give myself permission to name the harm, identify my needs, and cultivate the conditions (and community) to nourish them because sacrificing my own needs is self-betrayal.
Even if Black women are superheroes, I give myself permission to invite in the lifelong practice of ease. I am allowed to create healthy boundaries that protect my body, my DreamSpace, and center my healing. #TheNapMinistry
Even if wearing a mask is a survival apparatus, I give myself permission to remain soft, stay in my body, and get curious about what it is saying. I am allowed to experience the discomfort of feeling my emotions because the familiar is not true safety. True safety resides in me returning home to myself.
Reclaiming Your Time, Energy, and Joy
Setting boundaries has given me space to breathe, to reflect, and to lean into curiosity. When I’m not stretched thin by demands that I didn’t consent to, I have the capacity to explore the things that truly light me up. I’ve found joy in small, curious moments—whether it’s reading a book that’s been sitting on my shelf for months, belting out my favorite Gospel songs, or simply sitting in stillness. These moments of rest and curiosity are where I reconnect with myself. They remind me that my value isn’t tied to how productive I am or how available I am to others, but to how true I am to myself.
Setting boundaries is ultimately an act of liberation. It’s about acknowledging that you deserve rest, that you are worthy of care, and that your authenticity matters. This journey isn’t just about saying 'no'—it’s about saying 'yes' to the life you truly want to live. For me, it has been a journey of unlearning—letting go of the narratives that said I needed to be everything for everyone to be worthy. It’s been about embracing the discomfort of ‘no’ so that I can say a wholehearted ‘yes’ to what truly matters.
I invite you to reflect on the boundaries you need to set in your life. What areas feel out of balance for you? Where do you feel your needs are being ignored? What would it look like to prioritize your well-being without guilt? How would it feel to protect your space for rest, curiosity, and authenticity? Let’s reclaim our time, our energy, and our joy—one boundary at a time. You deserve it.
