Not Every “Send Me Money” Is Your Problem

Let’s talk about Black Tax and the silent cost of survival.

There’s an unspoken weight many carry in our communities—the quiet expectation that the moment you start earning, you become the lifeline for everyone else.

It starts subtly.
A cousin calls and says, “Can you just help me out with $20 till month-end?”
A sibling needs school fees.
A relative is in the hospital.
Groceries are needed back home.
A business “opportunity” comes up and they want you to invest.

And before you know it, your phone becomes a constant trigger, not because you don’t love these people, but because your entire existence has been reduced to being a walking ATM.

We call it Black Tax—the cultural and emotional expectation placed on Black professionals (and often the first to “make it”) to take care of their families financially, sometimes at the expense of their own well-being.

Yes, it’s built on love.
Yes, it’s rooted in gratitude, community, and ubuntu.
But let’s be honest—it can also be financially crippling and emotionally exhausting.

The Hidden Cost of Black Tax

Many of us are working full-time jobs, running side hustles, trying to save for a house, raise children, get out of debt, or even just breathe—but we can’t. Because every month, our salary comes with unpaid invoices from people we can’t say “no” to.

We’re expected to give.
To show up.
To sacrifice.

And when we finally muster the courage to say, “I can’t help right now,” we’re guilt-tripped:
“After everything we’ve done for you…”
“You’ve changed.”
“Money has gotten to your head.”

But here’s the truth:
Not every ‘send me money’ is your problem.

Some problems are born out of poor planning.
Some people are draining you, not because they have nothing, but because you’ve never taught them how to live without you.
Some needs are urgent but not yours to solve.
And some requests are repetitive cycles that delay your own freedom.

Responsibility vs. Resentment

There’s a very thin line between being responsible and being taken advantage of. Between helping and enabling. Between love and guilt. And when you cross that line too many times, you start living in quiet resentment:

• Resentment that you can’t pursue your own goals freely.
• Resentment that you can’t travel, invest, or rest without “looking selfish.”
• Resentment that your hard work never seems to be enough.

Black Tax should not be your bondage.
It should not chain you to cycles of survival just to keep the peace.
And it should never make you feel guilty for choosing to thrive.

You Have a Right to Boundaries

Here’s the grown-up truth:
You can love your people and still say no.
You can support them without sabotaging your own future.
You can honor your background without being buried by it.

It’s okay to:

• Create a family budget and stick to it.
• Offer emotional support when you can’t offer financial help.
• Say, “Not this month, I have other commitments.”
• Teach them how to fish, not always give them the fish.

Because no one will build your safety net for you.
And if you go broke today, many of those same people won’t have a plan for you tomorrow

This is Your Permission Slip

To choose yourself.
To say no with grace.
To break cycles—not just of poverty, but of guilt, fear, and emotional manipulation.
To build your legacy on your terms.

You cannot save everyone.
And you were never meant to.

So the next time you hear, “Can you just send me money…”
Pause.
Breathe.
And remember:

Not every ‘send me money’ is your problem.