Quiet Liberation of Saying No More – Boundaries as a Healing Practice
- Brainz Magazine
- Dec 8
- 3 min read
Updated: Dec 9
Dr. Udim Isang, DPT, EdD, Mbia Idiong, is an award-winning educator, physical therapist, and activist specializing in indigenous healing practices, implicit bias in healthcare, and integrative wellness through movement and mindfulness.
There is a particular kind of clarity that arrives after healing, a steadiness in the bones, a softness in the breath, a grounded sense of self that no longer negotiates with chaos. I am resting in that place now, not recovering, not unraveling. Resting. Fully aware, fully present, fully myself.
As a death doula in this life, from the Ekpo lineage, my mother’s maternal line, grief is not an interruption to life, it’s a natural rhythm. It moves through me the way rain moves through soil. It comes, it teaches, it passes. Nothing in me is broken when grief appears. It is simply the work my spirit agreed to do.
From that clarity, boundaries take on a different meaning. They’re no longer desperate reactions or last-minute attempts to rescue myself. They are maintenance. They are how I protect the peace I’ve earned. They are how I keep my healed self… healed.
For so many of us, Black, queer, neurodivergent, immigrant leaders, “yes” became our first language. We said yes to carrying, yes to leading, yes to holding everyone’s emotions because we were taught that saying no meant we were ungrateful or unkind.
But healing reveals the truth, “no more” is not rejection. It is alignment. It is the nervous system choosing regulation over productivity. It is the heart choosing reciprocity over depletion. It is the spirit choosing balance after generations of overextension.
In this season, “no more” doesn’t come from exhaustion. It comes from wisdom. It comes from the Ekpo memory in my blood, the reminder that endings, transitions, and thresholds are sacred work. It comes from knowing that my energy is a resource and my peace is a responsibility.
Boundaries keep me connected only to what honors that peace. They invite relationships that breathe instead of constrict. They invite communication that clarifies rather than confuses. They invite a community that meets me as I am, not as I am expected to perform.
Most of us were raised to believe that being needed is the same as being loved. But love that demands self-abandonment is not love, it is labor. Boundaries return choice back to the relationship. They allow love to be intentional rather than obligatory.
Here is the truth I stand in, boundaries are what healed people use to stay healed. They say, “I am whole, and I intend to remain whole.” They say, “I choose pace, clarity, and reciprocity.” They say, “My well-being is not negotiable.”
Healing changed the way I speak, move, and relate. It made me deliberate. Patient. Less interested in chaos and more interested in peace that lasts.
And so I offer this to you, listen inward. Not from crisis, but from calm. Notice where your spirit feels crowded. Notice where your energy leaks. Notice where your “yes” no longer aligns with who you’ve become.
When your body, your lineage, your intuition says, “no more,” trust that it is guiding you toward the life you prayed for. That is liberation through practice. Quiet. Steady. And deeply earned.
Call to action:
Leaders who thrive are leaders who rest, regulate, and refuse to abandon themselves. This week, choose a boundary that protects your energy and model that choice for your community. Liberation spreads through example.
Read more from Dr. Udim Isang
Dr. Udim Isang, The (Em)Body Doctor & Nigerian Healer
Dr. Udim Isang, DPT, EdD, Mbia Idiong, is a Doctor of Physical Therapy and Executive Leadership Educator passionate about indigenous healing, mindfulness, and movement therapy. As a queer, trans, immigrant, and neuro-distinct individual, they/they/it/we advocate for bridging healthcare equity and inclusive wellness practices. Learn more about their transformative work integrating mind, body, and spirit at the intersections of identity and healing.
