#HEYGRRRLFRENNNS protecting your peace is starting to sound like one of those phrases we say without really thinking about what it means. Kind of like “do the work” or “boundaries.” It sounds powerful, maybe even a little mysterious, but no one really teaches us how to do it. So we end up lighting a candle, muting a few people, skipping brunch, and hoping that’s enough to bring us some calm. And while those things can help, they’re not the full picture. Because the real work of protecting your peace is not just about what you cut out. It’s about what you build in. Not just a vibe, a lifestyle. Let’s be real, peace doesn’t always come easy, especially when the world is loud, your notifications are never-ending, and everyone has access to your energy. If you’re a Black grrrl, there’s a whole other layer to that. You’re taught to put others first, keep the peace, stay pleasant, and absorb discomfort to make other people more comfortable. You’re praised for being selfless, patient, and “strong,” even when it comes at the expense of your mental health. It’s no surprise that setting boundaries or saying no can feel like a personal betrayal. But here’s the thing, protecting your peace is not selfish. It is not dramatic. It is not an overreaction. It’s a form of self-respect. And the more you commit to it, the clearer everything else becomes. In this post, we’re getting into what it actually means to protect your peace, what gets in the way of doing that, and why choosing yourself consistently is one of the most radical things you can do.

This blog post is for the grrrls who are tired of negotiating their sanity just to keep the peace. The ones who are realizing that protecting your energy sometimes means disappointing people. It sometimes means setting limits that make other people uncomfortable. It sometimes means being misunderstood. But here’s what no one tells you—discomfort is temporary, but resentment lasts way longer. Oop. We’ve been taught that being “nice” is more important than being honest. That keeping things smooth is better than being direct. That taking care of everyone else is how you prove you’re a good friend, partner, coworker, or daughter. But that kind of peace is fake. If your peace depends on you constantly ignoring your own needs, then it is not peace. It is people-pleasing in a cute outfit. And eventually, it catches up with you. So this post is not about cutting everyone off or moving in silence just to prove a point. It is about getting real about what you need to feel safe, grounded, and whole—and choosing to prioritize that even when it’s hard. Protecting your peace is not always soft. Sometimes it is loud. Sometimes it is firm. Sometimes it is inconvenient. But it is always worth it.

Smile, Don’t Spiral

Let’s talk about how protecting your peace gets complicated when you’ve been raised to believe that your value comes from how much you can carry. Black grrrls especially are expected to be strong, adaptable, unbothered, and endlessly available. We are praised for being the one who holds it all together, even when it is hurting us. And because that praise feels like love, we learn to ignore the toll it takes. We don’t ask for help. We say yes when we want to say no. We keep the group chat together, hold space for everybody else’s feelings, and show up like we’re fine when we’re anything but. I’m literally just a grrrl. That version of strength is not sustainable. And it is not fair. Real peace cannot exist in a life where your needs are always last. Protecting your peace starts with rejecting the idea that strength has to mean self-sacrifice. You are allowed to choose rest, softness, and stillness without feeling like you are letting anyone down. You are allowed to be unavailable. You are allowed to protect your time. You are allowed to leave situations that expect you to carry more than your share. The systems that taught us to stay small and silent also benefit when we burn out. That is not a coincidence. If we are too tired to advocate for ourselves, if we are too overwhelmed to dream bigger, if we are too drained to ask for more, the systems stay in place. So protecting your peace is not just self-care. It is a disruption. It is you saying, “I matter too,” in a world that often says the opposite. It is also a practice. It will not feel perfect or easy all the time. There will be moments when you question whether you are doing the right thing. There will be people who make you feel guilty for putting yourself first. But the more you honor your own limits, the easier it becomes to hold your ground. Peace is not a one-time decision. It is a boundary you build brick by brick, until it feels like a home you can return to.

Down The Drain

A lot of things cost us our peace without us realizing it. That group chat that lowkey drains your energy. That family member who guilts you every time you say no. That habit of checking your email first thing in the morning and spiraling before you even brush your teeth. Protecting your peace means noticing what’s stealing your energy and deciding to cut the leak. It’s nothing personal. But here’s where it gets tricky. Some of the things disrupting your peace might not be toxic or dramatic. They might even be things you like. Opportunities that sound good on paper. Friendships with history. Jobs that pay well but leave you depleted. Sometimes protecting your peace means walking away from what’s good but not aligned. And that’s where the real self-respect kicks in. Choosing alignment over approval. Choosing rest over recognition. Choosing presence over productivity. We’re taught to push through everything. Hustle through burnout. Show up even when we’re overwhelmed. Be grateful no matter how uncomfortable we are. But that constant pressure to perform is how we lose ourselves. Protecting your peace is about slowing down long enough to hear yourself again. It’s about learning to trust that your discomfort is a message, not a failure. Just because you can handle something doesn’t mean you should. This doesn’t mean you need to delete half your contacts or retreat into a healing cave forever. It just means getting clear about your boundaries and being honest about what’s actually serving you. What fills you up? What drains you? What leaves you feeling grounded versus resentful? These are questions that should guide how you spend your time, who you give your energy to, and what you choose to tolerate. When you stop seeing peace as a reward and start seeing it as a requirement, everything shifts. You move differently. You speak up sooner. You stop negotiating with things that feel heavy just to keep up appearances. You stop explaining why you are choosing ease. And eventually, you stop asking for permission.

Soft Is A Strategy

One of the biggest myths about protecting your peace is that it means you’re being avoidant or weak. But softness is not the opposite of strength. Softness is a strategy. It is a decision to move through life with intention instead of chaos. It is choosing clarity over confusion, stillness over survival mode, and presence over pressure. And that takes more strength than people give it credit for. Peace is not passive, it’s powerful. Sometimes the most radical thing you can do is simply not engage. Not every invitation deserves a response. Not every comment needs to be addressed. Not every expectation placed on you is yours to fulfill. Protecting your peace doesn’t mean isolating yourself from the world. It means participating in a way that actually honors your values. It means noticing when you are abandoning yourself in the name of being liked, helpful, or palatable—and deciding to come back home to yourself instead. That might look like setting stronger boundaries. It might look like being more honest in your relationships. It might look like taking a break before you reach your breaking point. And none of that needs to be explained. You do not owe anyone a perfectly worded reason for why you are choosing yourself. Softness is not about disengaging from the world. It is about showing up without sacrificing your well-being. It is about being discerning with your time, your energy, and your capacity. It is about choosing peace even when drama is an option. It is about knowing that you are allowed to move with grace and still be taken seriously. So no, protecting your peace does not mean you are out of touch. It means you are in tune. With your body. With your spirit. With your intuition. And if that means you’re not always available, agreeable, or accessible, that’s okay.

Peace is not something you stumble into. It is something you actively create. And maintaining it will require choices that not everyone understands. You will have to say no when it would be easier to say yes. You will have to speak up when it would be more comfortable to stay quiet. You will have to walk away from things that no longer align with who you are becoming. That’s not drama. That’s discernment. Protecting your peace is not about curating a perfect, uninterrupted life. It is about being clear on what you are available for and what you are no longer willing to carry. It is about choosing yourself again and again, even when the world tells you not to. You do not have to be everything for everyone. You do not have to sacrifice your softness for survival. You get to honor your own limits, your own needs, and your own sense of peace. And no, it won’t always feel easy. You might question yourself. You might lose people. You might feel like you’re being “too much” for choosing rest, ease, or boundaries. But peace is not just a feeling. It is a lifestyle. It is a practice. It is a return to yourself every single time you’re pulled away. So take up space. Set the boundary. Choose the quiet. Let people adjust to your evolution, or not. Just know that you are not required to shrink in order to be loved, respected, or understood. Your peace is powerful. And you’re allowed to protect it like your life depends on it because sometimes, it does. Now go and be great you lil grrrly pop. TTYL.