Don’t forget to protect the new version of yourself. Sometimes we get so carried away with the idea that we must heal—and healing is important—but if you heal and do not enforce boundaries, I would argue there is little point in healing at all. I know that sounds harsh, but as melanated people, we must liberate one another with the truth, not just feel-good messages and delicacies. I don’t only want you to feel good—I want you to be good.
All over the world, melanated communities and nations are suffering deeply. So much so that we often find ourselves arguing among each other about who has it worse. I am not interested in debating who has the better side of the gutter. The gutter is the gutter to me. Whether you’re positioned on the north side and another on the south side, we are still in the same place.
And when I say “gutter,” I am not speaking only of filth or trash—though that may describe some circumstances. I am talking about the reality that most melanated communities and nations are struggling, lack control over their own resources, and are often dependent on foreign aid just to survive or control or own very little in our own nation or communities. Many of our communities exist in chaos and rely heavily on people who do not look like us for help and support—people who often do not have our best interests in mind. That is what I mean by the gutter.
I am not going to argue what is plainly true: as a whole, many Black communities, societies, and nations are struggling. You may be wondering what this has to do with trauma and boundaries. Understand this: whenever I write, I am speaking to a bigger picture. Much of my work centers on nation-building. And I know many melanated people talk endlessly about what we need to build and how much we need to build. But I will be honest—if you do not know how to preserve and protect what you build, then building should be the least of your concern.
Building is not our biggest issue.
I know this is hard to digest, but I am not here to make this easy to swallow—I am here to offer the remedy. Healing without boundaries opens the door to experiencing the same harm all over again. No one takes a shower just to walk outside and roll in the dirt. Healing comes with responsibility, and that responsibility is enforcing boundaries.
Black Americans have already proven their ability to build and sustain strong communities, even after slavery. Creation is not our weakness. Preservation and protection are.
Words connected to boundaries include self-preservation, rules of engagement, defense, and shielding. This, I believe, is our greatest weakness. I would even put money on it. Our problem is not the lack of building—it is the inability to protect what we have built.
Look across the Caribbean. Many islands remain controlled by foreign entities, to the point where melanated people cannot fully access or enjoy their own land and beaches. That reality alone deserves deep study, but for now, I will stay at the surface.
This brings us back to trauma—specifically generational trauma. The inability to stand up for yourself, to set boundaries, and to protect what is yours often comes from unresolved trauma. So stop questioning your ability to create. You do not have a creation problem. You have a preservation problem.
We must heal ancestral trauma, and once we heal, we must protect the new version of ourselves. Boundaries are not for other people—they are for us.
Think of a woman who has been in an abusive relationship for decades. When she finally heals and walks away, that abusive partner is not going to applaud her new boundaries. He is not going to say, “Oh, okay—you don’t want to be abused anymore.” Abusers do not respect boundaries. And colonizers operate from the same abusive dynamic.
Now apply this on a larger scale. Exploited nations and communities are not granted freedom simply because they ask politely or communicate clearly. Those who have played god over other nations do not step aside willingly. If you believe you can talk your way out of exploitation without enforcement, you are being dangerously naïve. Failing to understand the need to enforce boundaries is a sign of immaturity—like a child who believes a stranger offering candy must be trustworthy.
Adulthood teaches us the necessity of boundaries. And people who have endured deep trauma or psychological abuse often struggle with enforcing them. This is why healing must be paired with boundaries—firm, enforced, and protected.
Boundaries must be clear, firm, and enforced. And when they are crossed, consequences must follow—whether in personal relationships, communities, or nations.
Museums around the world are filled with stolen artifacts from melanated nations, and for centuries we were unable to say a word or take them back. That is the result of not being able to enforce boundaries, protect or preserve.
From interpersonal relationships to government relationships, we must learn to establish boundaries and stand on them. Our inability to self-preserve is one of our greatest global weaknesses.
So here is the work: identify the trauma—especially generational trauma—heal it, set boundaries, and enforce them. As you reclaim your power in small ways, you will begin to see changes on a larger scale. This is spiritual. This is energetic. Everything is connected.
Even something as small as no longer answering a call from someone who repeatedly disrespects your boundaries sends a ripple through the collective energy. Never underestimate small actions—small shifts create big transformations.
So again, feel good—but more importantly, be good. Let us heal generational trauma, set boundaries, enforce them, and reclaim our power.
Until next time.