|
Reader, Let’s talk about burnout. Not the “take a bubble bath and you’ll feel better” kind. Not the kind that can be fixed with a weekend off, a mini getaway, or logging off for a couple of days and calling it rest (i must confess i do this last one though). I mean the deep, embodied exhaustion that comes from holding space for people surviving trauma and oppression every single day—while living through those same systems ourselves. Oppressive systems that are not only in the news, but also in our neighborhoods, our workplaces, our bodies. And here’s the truth we’re often not taught: Western models of boundaries were never made for ALL of us. They were created in systems that prioritize the individual over the collective (regardless of your identities), disconnection over relationship, and self-preservation over community care. Which is why so many of us—especially those of us from the global majority, and those of us with lineages of relational healing—struggle to apply the kind of “rigid boundary” advice we’re given in trainings, in supervision, even by our own therapists. It doesn’t always feel right. And it doesn’t always work. And it often leaves us feeling more cut off than protected… or like we’re “not doing boundaries right.” But here’s what decolonial care teaches us: 👉🏽 Boundaries don’t have to be walls. 👉🏽 Self-care doesn’t have to mean disconnection. 👉🏽 You don’t have to perform neutrality in the face of oppression. This means checking in with our own capacity—without guilt. It means asking: It means letting go of the idea that “good” therapists are endlessly available, emotionally neutral, and able to keep working through collapse (and/or apolitical). Burnout is not a personal failure. It’s a systemic consequence. And preventing it requires structural and energetic change. It requires choosing our humanity over productivity: It requires us to decolonize the way we think about boundaries altogether—and to trust that tending to ourselves is part of the work. We are not just therapists performing care. And how we care for ourselves—and each other—is part of the practice. With care, Silvana Liberatory Letters | The Practice of Liberation | Decolonize Your Practice PS. You can read previous Liberatory Letters here. PPS. PPPS. ⬆️ Let's connect! |
I help therapists, healers, and space-holders bring decolonial and liberatory values into their work—so you’re not just saying you’re aligned… you’re actually practicing it. ⬆️ More integrity, more connection, more liberation. ⬇️ Less burnout, less performative wokeness, less colonial residue. If you want a practice where marginalized clients feel safe, seen, and honored—and you want to feel more grounded and intentional in your work—subscribe and join a growing community of practitioners doing this work differently. You practice can be liberatory-- let's get you there!
Reader, A quick update on what I've been up to: 💻 Community Liberation Sessions, (formerly Decolonized Consultation Sessions) started last week. And you're welcome to join us live in the following months (with a limited replay available.)This is a virtual gathering space for therapists, healers, and space-holders practicing decolonization — in real time.Learn more below or here. Since restarting the Community Liberation Sessions, I’ve been reflecting more deeply on something I’ve been...
Reader, A quick update on what I've been up to: 💻 Community Liberation Sessions, (formerly Decolonized Consultation Sessions) start today. And you're welcome to join us live if you have a cancellation or watch it later (limited replay available.)This is a virtual gathering space for therapists, healers, and space-holders practicing decolonization — in real time.We'll answer questions, process dilemmas, and learn together how to support a decolonial practice.Learn more below or here. I...
March 2026 Reader, At the end of the Gregorian year, I took a full month off from therapy clients. And I actually took time off. I didn’t check my work email, I disconnected completely, and I left out-of-office messages everywhere they could possibly live. I intentionally didn’t plan a vacation. I stayed home to, I guess, hang out with myself. No specific plans. No productivity goals. No “use this time wisely” strategy. Just a stack of books that I promised myself I would peruse, not finish...