Reader,

​

Recently, in my clinical practice, I sent out an inquiry looking for a BIPoC therapist for someone in need.

And this is one of the messages I got back:

Then followed a full paragraph about who they are, their credentials, their approach, their hours, their practice… none of which addressed the most important thing I had named.

That they were not who I was looking for.

This might sound small to some, but it isn’t.

It’s a microboundary being crossed.

It’s emotional labor being handed off.

It’s a small email that requires a lot of unspoken work.

Because here’s the reality:

When you send something like that to a therapist of color -after we’ve explicitly said we’re looking for a clinician of color- you are taking up space that isn’t meant for you.

It may not feel like much to you, but to us, it means:

• We now have to set another boundary we already set.
• We have to manage our own triggered nervous system.
• We have to brace for the inevitable “I meant well.”
• We have to decide how much energy we’re willing to spend explaining why “good intentions” don’t erase harm.
• We have to absorb the weight of unpaid emotional labor, again.

And this happens all the time.

This is not a call-out.

It’s a call-in.

A call to those of you who want to do better.

Who want to practice liberation.

Who want to be ethical, aware, and decolonial in your work.

If you are a therapist or healer at the intersection of several different identities (like me… like most of us!)—listen carefully:

When someone requests a therapist of color, a trans therapist, a disabled therapist, a neurodivergent therapist, etc, respect that.

Do not insert yourself.
Do not explain yourself.
Do not offer your services anyway.

Instead:

✨ Uplift a colleague who does hold that identity.

✨ Respect the boundary that was already set.

✨ Recognize that “helping” is not always helpful.

It is not your fault that grad school didn’t teach you this.

That supervision didn’t name it.

That our professional culture still rewards those who take up all the space in the room naming them “go getters”, “outspoken”, “assertive”, “knowledgeable”, “successful”.

But that doesn’t mean we get to keep doing it.

The real culprit here is the colonial conditioning that taught us proximity to power and expertise always matters more than attunement, humility, or context.

And the antidote?

Learning when not to step in.
When to amplify instead of occupy.
When to listen instead of lead.

We can do this differently.

We can hold space without taking it.
We can center those who have been systematically decentered.
We can model what true allyship looks like in action—not in theory.

So please:

Don’t send that email.

Don’t take up space that isn’t yours to take.

And if you’re reading this and thinking, I already know this, beautiful.

Then your work is to pass it on.

Teach your colleagues.

Name it in your consultation groups.

Model it when someone misses the point.

Because that’s what decolonial care looks like.

​

⭐️ Reflection Prompts

1. When was the last time I took up space that wasn’t mine to take? What might I have done differently?
2. How do I support colleagues with marginalized identities without turning to them for education or validation?
3. What systems taught me to overidentify with “helping,” and how can I unlearn that impulse?

​

🌱 A note before you go

This kind of reflection — this naming, questioning, and truth-telling — is part of my own unlearning and healing.

But what you read here is only the surface.

There’s a quieter layer underneath: the more intimate vulnerable stories that don’t fit into public spaces, the moments of grief, tenderness, and becoming that shape how I show up for this work.

I want to begin sharing those more personal reflections in a deeper, more intimate space:

✨ a paid version of this newsletter for those who want to walk with me in the ongoing practice of decolonizing therapy, healing, identity, and self. For those who understand that we need to decolonize everything, and that everything is connected to what we do.

It will be slower. More spacious.

A place for what can’t be said in a social post — what needs care, context, and time.

If you’ve found resonance in these letters (if they’ve helped you name something in your own work, or reminded you why you’re here) then I’d love for you to be part of this next layer.

Because sustaining liberatory practice also means resourcing it.

And continuing to decolonize our work means practicing care... not just for others, but for the spaces that nurture collective truth-telling.

👉🏽 Click here to join the waitlist for the paid newsletter.

We’ll go slower there.

We’ll dig deeper.

And we’ll keep practicing liberation together, not as a concept, but as a lived commitment.

​

With warmth and resolve,

​

Silvana @ Decolonize Your Practice

PS. If someone forwarded this newsletter to you, you can subscribe here.

PPS. And forward this email to a peer as well!

PPPS. You can read previous Liberatory Letters here.

​

​​​​

⬆️ Let's connect!