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Reader, Last week I told you about balancing community care with self-preservation. If I take that up a notch — no, several notches — we hit a wall. Where’s the line between allyship and martyrdom? In other words, between doing something because it’s the right cause versus doing it because I think I’m supposed to — even at the expense of myself? Between showing up and disappearing into the cause? When do we stop giving when it never feels like enough? Or, how do we pause when pausing feels like betrayal? How do we keep helping people heal when we know they are being harmed, over and over again, every single day? There’s no perfect answer. There never has been. But the truest one is often the simplest: ✨ We pause to gather strength. ✨ We stop — not because we don’t care. We stop because we do. This is not a call-out. This is a call-in. I’m not blaming you for the inadvertent perfectionism baked into your activism, your therapy, your care work, your relentless hope. That perfectionism was taught to you — a byproduct of colonial capitalism that equates worth with output, activism with exhaustion, and care with self-erasure. I am not blaming you for any traumas either, the direct or vicarious wounds that make you want to spring into action even when there’s nothing left to give. I’ve done that too. But here’s your reminder: Liberation is not martyrdom. Liberation is aliveness. It’s knowing that you are not the sole savior of your clients, your community, or this world — even though every fiber of your being might wish you could be. (Most fibers of my being wish I could be. And I also know that’s not the way.) Liberation is understanding that movements have always been carried by many hands, not one pair. And that when you rest, the work doesn’t stop. It ripples. It continues through others, through time, through every seed you’ve already planted. So if you are weary, and I know you are, remember that you are part of a lineage. You are not meant to carry the entire revolution on your own. Because the world does not need more burned-out healers, activists, or therapists. It needs liberated ones. So this week, your act of resistance may simply be to: 🌱 rest without apology. And to trust that: 💫 the collective will continue the work. The revolution — like the body — needs cycles of activation and integration. Pausing is not stepping back from liberation. 📝 Reflection prompts
Hit reply and let me know what came out for you with these reflections. With deep solidarity and care, Silvana @ Decolonize Your Practice PS. If these are the kinds of reflections that stir something in you—the ones that ask us to slow down, unlearn, and rebuild what liberation can mean in our daily lives—then come be part of The Practice of Liberation. Subscribe now and, as a thank-you for supporting this work before the end of the year, you’ll receive 30% off a 1:1 consultation session. Read more about The POL here ⬆️ 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!
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