The Day I Learned That Love Without Boundaries Is Still Self-Abandonment

I’ve lent over $150,000 to people I love.

That sentence still feels surreal to type. Not because I regret it because I don’t but because it took me a long time to understand the difference between being generous and quietly self-destructive.

If you’re first-gen, a daughter of immigrants, or the “responsible one” in your family, you probably already know what I mean.

When you finally get a good job, it doesn’t feel like your win. It feels like a family win. A community win. A we made it moment. Suddenly, you’re not just succeeding, you’re representing something bigger than yourself.

And just like that, you become the one.

Becoming “The One”

The one everyone calls.
The one who “figures it out.”
The one who can help “just this once.”
The one who understands.
The one who always says yes.

At first, it feels good. It feels honorable. It feels like love.

I didn’t lend money because I was reckless. I did it because I could, and I was genuinely grateful that I could. I knew what it felt like to struggle, and I never wanted the people I loved to feel alone in that.

But I didn’t realize at the time that I also didn’t feel like I could say no.

And that matters.

When Saying No Feels Impossible

Growing up, all we hear are stories of sacrifice.

How much our parents gave up.
How hard they worked.
How little they had.
How much they endured.

So when someone you love is struggling, saying no doesn’t feel natural. It feels like betrayal. Like selfishness. Like forgetting where you came from.

So you help even when it stresses you out, delays your goals, and quietly chips away at your own sense of stability.

I used to joke that I was the world’s worst bank.

No interest.
No repayment plan.
Just trust and guilt.

And if that made you laugh, it’s probably because you recognize yourself.

The Guilt That Didn’t Go Away

Even when I eventually got most of my money back, thankfully, I did, the guilt didn’t disappear.

Because I realized something uncomfortable...helping everyone else was quietly delaying my own future.

Not in one dramatic way.
But in a thousand small ones.

Every “yes” I gave someone else was a “not yet” to myself.

Not yet to certain opportunities.
Not yet to certain dreams.
Not yet to peace of mind.

And that’s when it finally clicked, saying no today might be the reason I can say yes later.

Learning to Say No

Eventually, I had to do something I’d never done before.

I started saying no.

And I wish I could tell you it felt empowering right away.

It didn’t.

It felt uncomfortable. It felt selfish. It felt like I was changing. It felt like people didn’t understand me anymore.

But what I learned is this: boundaries don’t mean you love people less. They mean you love yourself too.

And for people like us, that can feel revolutionary.

This Isn’t About Choosing Money Over People

This isn’t about abandoning your community. It’s not about pulling the ladder up behind you. And it’s definitely not about choosing money over people.

It is about sustainability.

Generosity shouldn’t require self-destruction.
Love shouldn’t come with constant anxiety.
Helping others shouldn’t mean sabotaging your own future.

And you deserve to build wealth without guilt.

If This Sounds Like You

If you’re the one who always shows up…
If you’re the one who always helps…
If you’re the one who always figures it out…
If you feel guilty even thinking about saying no…

You’re not alone. And you’re not selfish.

You’re just learning something most of us were never taught:
that love and boundaries can coexist.

And honestly?

That might be the most powerful money lesson of all.