Balancing Self, Boundaries, and Belonging in a Demanding World
Inconvenience is the cost of community; that’s the conversation that’s been floating around lately. I’ve often found myself advocating for the idea that birthday dinners and group outings can be both emotionally and financially taxing. Especially in today’s political and economic climate, spending $40 on dinner and a drink just to avoid judgment can feel like a lot. But within that thought, I’ve realized that being a villager means understanding that the world is bigger than yourself. Community requires sacrifice, and sometimes, that sacrifice looks like inconvenience.
In my African Centered Psychology class, I’ve learned how deeply African ideologies value community. In many African cultures, people don’t view themselves as individuals existing in isolation, like we often do in America. Instead, identity is rooted in interconnectedness; the idea that who you are is shaped by those around you and by those who came before you. The village is a living, breathing system of care and accountability. You don’t simply exist for yourself; you exist through others.
Yet, being a villager isn’t always easy. It can be emotionally draining to keep pouring into everyone else when you haven’t taken the time to pour into yourself. As adults, we carry the responsibility of setting limits and creating boundaries, of “protecting our peace” while still showing up for the people who need us. That balance isn’t always comfortable, but it’s necessary.
It often comes down to mindset. Think of it like going to a class you didn’t feel like attending where you drag yourself there out of obligation, but once it’s over, you leave feeling enriched, fulfilled, and connected to something greater. That’s what community does. It stretches you, humbles you, and reminds you that fulfillment doesn’t always come from ease; it often comes from effort.
To truly understand community, we have to start with self-awareness. You can’t pour from an empty cup, and you can’t contribute to the collective if you’re constantly running on fumes. Many college students, including myself, struggle with this. We give our time and energy to organizations, friendships, and relationships, only to realize that our own well-being has fallen to the bottom of the list. Living with a “check-by-check” mindset emotionally, mentally, or financially is unsustainable.
Ultimately, we are not responsible for anyone else’s happiness but our own. Still, within that truth lies a choice: we can be happy and selfish, or happy, tired, and fulfilled. True community calls us to the latter. Because even as we protect our peace, we must remember that none of us has ever climbed the ladder of life alone. We all ride on the coattails of those who came before us and stand beside us.
So, this thanksgiving season as we continue to pour into ourselves, let’s also honor our responsibility as villagers to show up, to give when we can, and to remember that inconvenience, at its best, is just another word for love in action.
