Let's talk about scarcity
Not just the kind that shows up in your bank account but the kind that lives in your body.
It can show up as gripping the steering wheel too tightly while driving, defending quickly when a close friend calls you out, or tightening your jaw when making a difficult decision. Scarcity can be survival on autopilot, and you may not even know it’s there.
I’ve watched people with good jobs, good money, and a nice home still caught in that same loop. Still quietly asking:
Am I enough?
That question is by design. The words scarcity and survival were constructed to keep us chasing. And if you are in a Black body, especially a Black woman’s body, there are whole systems built to benefit from you staying in that cycle.
Capitalism needs us in survival mode.
White supremacy thrives when we are in scarcity.
It holds onto our coattails, needing us to feel like there is never enough, so we never stop reaching for more.
And here’s what scarcity does that we don’t talk about enough: it turns us against each other. When we’re in survival mode,, we project. We defend. We mistake the people who love us for threats. And slowly, quietly, we lose community.
That is why we have to face scarcity and survival head-on, together.
Last month (Feb 2026),
I threw a birthday party, and instead of asking for gifts, I asked my people to bring donation items to serve those experiencing homelessness. I called it With Love.
They arrived with hands full of tissue, baby wipes, toothbrushes, toothpaste, hand warmers, granola bars, and more. In return, my mom, my sister, and I prepared a four course vegan meal for them. We made 39 bags stuffed with those items. We danced. We laughed. We celebrated.
This was reciprocity in action. My celebration meant something for me, my people, and for my community as a whole.
One of my guests was going through something hard financially. Before the party, we got on the phone, just the two of us. I told her, “ Don’t bring anything, just bring yourself."
But what mattered more than that was the conversation itself, the space to say this is what I need, this is what I can give, this is what I can’t. That kind of honesty is where real community is built. Not in the easy moments, but in the ones where we tell the truth about where we actually are.
She came, ate, danced, and went home with extra food.
That experience taught me something important about how I envision the world giving.
Imagine if we made sure we not only took care of ourselves, but the people around us, too. This month, I set up a monthly savings account called Give to the People. A set amount each month according to my budget, so I can give with boundaries, give with intention, and never give from depletion.
Because knowing yourself, your capacity, your limits, your needs, is what makes giving sustainable. Giving from a grounded place deepens your relationships, strengthens community, and comes back around.
Giving from depletion quietly breaks you down until you have nothing left, and you start to resent the very people you love.That resentment? That’s scarcity and survival working together. Keeping us small. Keeping us separate. Keeps us asking “Am I enough?”
We have to get out of individualism and understand that our wellbeing is rooted in our collective wellbeing.
So the question I keep coming back to is this:
How well do you know yourself, well enough to give in a way that fills you?
That is what I want for us. Community rooted in reciprocity. In abundance. In love. In the kind of honesty that says I have this to offer and I need support here, without shame on either side.
Not scarcity. Not individualism. Not the quiet exhaustion of trying to hold everything alone.
Our core want is belonging. Our core want is to feel safe. And we cannot get there by staying in survival mode, gripping tight, assuming there is not enough to go around. We get there by turning toward each other. By creating spaces where the truth can be told. By giving from love and receiving without guilt, and knowing that when we need help, there is someone we can lean on.
We need each other.
We need each other.
I love you.
