peace protection

Oh look, more work with boundaries and discernment.

And as ever, it’s not that sweet kind that feels good or easy… I seriously don’t know how yall keep finding that one… mine’s the kind that cracks and hurts. The kind that shows you where you’ve tolerated too much for too long. The kind that reminds you—again—that love without boundaries isn’t love at all. It’s self-abandonment dressed up as compassion.

Once again, I’ve been navigating complex dynamics with people I mostly care a lot about. Some are family. Some are acquaintances. And some I thought were friends. All of them, at some point, have made me question myself. My needs. My worth. My gut instinct.

You don’t have to know the specifics to understand the feeling: when someone demands access to your energy, your time, your presence— and when you start to realize that your “yes” has cost you more than it’s given.

Here’s what I’m finding in this pass around:

1. Boundaries are not walls. But they do keep the garden safe.

I used to think that setting a boundary meant pushing someone away. But I’m learning that boundaries are more like a trellis—they guide growth. They let me be in relationship with people without losing me in the process.

2. Shadow work isn’t just personal—it’s relational.

Sometimes our growth triggers others. Sometimes our “no” invites backlash. And that can be really hard when you’ve been conditioned to be the peacemaker, the helper, the one who smooths things over.

But lately, I’ve stopped apologizing for who I become when I stop shrinking. It’s really quite nice… has this whole “Let them” vibe.

3. Healing asks us to get honest about who feels safe—and who just feels familiar.

This one hits deep. It’s easy to confuse shared history with shared values. But there’s a difference between someone who knew you before you grew… and someone who can meet you now, where you are.

There’s a grief that comes with this one moreso than the others.

4. You can be kind and still say “no.”

This one is ongoing for me. I still feel that old twinge of guilt when I protect my time, energy, or nervous system. But I’m getting better at letting the guilt come—and not letting it decide for me.

I’m not writing this from the other side of the mountain. I’m still in the climb. But what I can say is this: the more I honor what’s true for me, the more I attract relationships that feel mutual, nourishing, and real. I don’t need to perform softness to be loved. I don’t need to prove my worth through fawning or overgiving.

So there’s that. And if you’re doing this kind of work too— redefining your boundaries, reclaiming your voice, choosing discomfort over people-pleasing, feel free to say it with me:

“Not everyone deserves a front row seat to your healing. Some folks can and should get demoted to the parking lot. ✌️”

This is the work.

This is the walk.

And even when it’s messy, it’s holy.