When you fight against colonization and oppression with absolute moral certainty, you risk becoming a colonizer yourself—imposing your ideology, shaming dissent, and dominating minds. True resistance requires standing for something while staying open to being changed by those you disagree with.

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I've been on both sides of this paradox.

I've been shamed for having nuanced viewpoints—told I was causing harm by not standing firmly on ONE side, by not aligning with someone's exact ideology. Accused of being complicit, weak, part of the problem.

And I've felt the opposite impulse. Often. That visceral urge to CONVINCE others, to impose my view, to make them wrong when I feel protective of a marginalized group or passionate about a cause. The righteousness of it. The certainty that if they just understood, they'd see it my way.

That impulse to colonize their minds with the "right" perspective.

So I get it.

From both sides.

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In the quest for justice and freedom for all, we may find ourselves standing against forces of oppression, discrimination, and colonization. We rally against systems that seek to dominate, control, and impose their will upon others.

Yet, in this noble pursuit, we face a paradoxical challenge: the risk of becoming that which we fight against.

This paradox is not immediately apparent. It lurks in the shadows of our righteousness, hidden behind the banner of our just causes. But as we delve deeper into the nature of our activism and examine our methods of resistance, we may find an uncomfortable truth staring back at us.

Becoming That Which We Fight Against

Consider the mom terrified of raising "that guy."

She's seen the harm. She knows what toxic masculinity does. She's committed to raising sons who respect women, who understand consent, who don't perpetuate the systems she's fought against.

So she over-corrects. Polices their rough-housing. Shames their competitive instincts. Tells them their anger is "toxic." Treats their natural masculine energy as something dangerous to be suppressed.

She doesn't realize she's doing to her sons what she doesn't want them to do to women... dominating them, controlling their growth, refusing to let them find their own way.

She's colonizing them with her ideology, even as she fights against dominance and colonization.

What if instead she could hold both? That masculinity itself isn't the problem—domination is. That her sons can be strong, confident, competitive AND respectful, empathetic, kind. That they need space to discover what healthy masculinity looks like for them, not have it imposed by her fear.

Or consider the passionate activist fighting against the colonization of indigenous lands.

They speak out against historical injustices, cultural erasure, and ongoing exploitation. Their cause is just, and their anger is righteous.

But in their fervor, they might find themselves attempting to colonize the minds of others with their ideology. They may use shame, guilt, or social pressure to force others to adopt their viewpoint, inadvertently engaging in a form of mental colonization.

Or think about the progressive thinker battling against conservative ideologies.

In their zeal to promote inclusivity and social justice, they might find themselves excluding, silencing, or dehumanizing those who hold different views. The very tactics they condemn in their opponents become the weapons they wield in their own crusade.

This is the paradox of colonization—in fighting against it, we risk becoming colonizers ourselves. We may start with the noblest of intentions, but the methods we employ and the attitudes we adopt can mirror those we seek to overthrow.

The root of this paradox lies in the human tendency to see the world in binary terms:

→ us vs. them
→ right vs. wrong
→ oppressor vs. oppressed

This simplistic worldview can blind us to the complexities of human nature and the nuances of social dynamics. It can lead us to believe that our cause is so just, our perspective so correct, that any means of advancing it is justified.

But this is a dangerous path.

When we convince ourselves that we have the absolute truth, that our way is the only "right" way, we open the door to the same kind of dogmatic thinking that fuels colonization and oppression—we become authoritarians in the name of liberation.

We become intolerant of dissent, dismissive of alternative perspectives, and willing to silence those who disagree.

Moreover, in our eagerness to effect change, we may overlook the importance of personal autonomy and individual choice.

We might believe that because our cause is just, everyone should naturally agree with us.

When they don't, we may resort to tactics of persuasion that border on manipulation or coercion.

We justify these actions by telling ourselves it's for the greater good, failing to see how this mirrors the paternalistic attitudes of colonizers who believed they knew what was best for those they sought to "civilize."

The challenge, then, is not to stop fighting for what we believe in.

It's to find a way to advocate passionately while staying open to being changed by the conversation.

This requires a profound level of self-awareness and a willingness to constantly examine our own thoughts, attitudes, and actions. To keep ourselves in check.

Hold your beliefs with conviction AND humility

We must learn to hold our beliefs with strength, recognizing that we can stand for something deeply AND hold the possibility that we could be wrong.

That our actions could result in unintended consequences.

That someone else's experience might reveal something we're missing.

Actually listen—with willingness to be changed

The question is, can we cultivate the ability to listen—to truly listen in good faith—to those who disagree with us.

Not just to formulate counterarguments but to understand their perspective and the experiences they've had that led them to see the world as they do.

Here's the key... If you're not open to being educated and informed by them, if you're not willing to genuinely understand why they believe what they believe, if you're not willing to be touched or possibly changed by the conversation—then you're simply trying to colonize their minds with dominance.

Listening with good faith doesn't mean you need to change your position.

It means you enter the conversation genuinely curious: "Help me understand your experience. What led you to see it this way?"

Respect autonomy, even when you disagree

Can we respect the autonomy of others, even when we believe they're misguided?

This means accepting that people have the right to hold views we disagree with.

True (sustainable) change comes through feeling heard, having new experiences, learning diverse viewpoints, engaging in respectful dialogue, and ongoing personal growth, not through force or manipulation.

Confront your own biases

Are we willing to confront our own biases and prejudices?

It's easy to see the faults in our opponents but much harder to recognize our own shortcomings. Yet it's precisely this self-reflection that can prevent us from becoming that which we oppose.

Perhaps most importantly, can we embrace complexity and nuance?

The world is rarely as black and white as we see it (and as we'd like it to be).

> You can personally be pro-life AND defend someone else's right to choose.

> You can believe in climate action AND understand why someone prioritizes economic stability.

> You can support racial justice AND hold concerns about programs that might limit autonomy in the name of help—recognizing that good intentions can cause real harm knowing that the line between support and paternalism is complicated.

These aren't contradictions. They're nuance.

By acknowledging the shades of gray, we can avoid the trap of absolutist thinking that often leads to colonizing behaviors.

This is not to say that we should abandon our principles or cease fighting for what we believe is right.

On the contrary, it's about finding more effective, more ethical ways to pursue our goals.

It's about recognizing that lasting change comes not from dominating or silencing others but from fostering understanding, empathy, and mutual respect.

Is this a sellout?

This isn't about choosing between passionate advocacy and spineless relativism.

It's not: "Stand for nothing so you don't colonize anyone."

It's: "Stand for something AND stay open to being changed."

Advocate fiercely. Believe deeply. Fight for what matters.

But enter every conversation—even with people you think are completely wrong—with genuine curiosity about their experience. With willingness to be touched, informed, possibly even changed.

Not because you'll necessarily change your position.

But because the conversation itself—when it's genuine exchange rather than attempted domination—creates something neither of you could create alone.

What does this look like in the moment?

You're in a heated conversation. Your body is tight, your mind racing with counterarguments, that familiar righteousness rising in your chest. That's the moment. Pause. Take a breath. Ask yourself: "Am I trying to convince or connect? Am I trying to win or understand?" Then ask them: "Tell me more about that. What's your experience been?"

A Word About Harm and When to Stand Firm

I know what you're thinking: "But what if the other side IS causing harm? What if staying open feels like complicity?"

This is real. And it's complicated.

Sometimes "complicity" becomes a weapon we use to justify our own righteousness—to avoid the discomfort of genuine dialogue, to center ourselves as the hero, to speak for people who didn't ask us to speak for them.

Sometimes our "allyship" becomes another form of colonization—stealing someone's voice by standing up for them, making their struggle about our moral high ground.

And yes—sometimes you DO need to stand firmly against harm.

Sometimes you need to fight. Sometimes there isn't room for "both/and."

This piece isn't an edict. I'm not saying there's never a time to stick to your guns.

I'm offering a contemplation.

A caution against the reflexive certainty that says, "I know what's best, and anyone who disagrees is complicit."

Because here's what I've found...

Often, by genuinely opening to another person's perspective—even one you oppose—you gain more nuance, more clarity about what you actually stand for.

You can honor multiple perspectives while standing more firmly, more effectively, for what matters to you.

You become MORE powerful in your conviction, not less.

But that requires being willing to be touched by the conversation. To see the humanity in someone you disagree with. To hold complexity without collapsing into relativism.

It's messy.
It's uncomfortable.
And it's not always possible.

I know the objection... "If I don't take a stand, if I stay open to other views, aren't I watering things down? Being weak?"

That fear comes from a dominant, top-down mentality—the belief that we have to STICK TO OUR GUNS and overpower others to get what we want, rather than coming together and finding something that gets us closer to what we want while honoring other people along the way.

Even when we think they're wrong.

This is messy.
Uncomfortable.
Slower than we'd like.

But it's the only way to create lasting change that doesn't just perpetuate cycles of domination.

The paradox of colonization serves as a powerful reminder of our own humanity.

It challenges us to be better, to rise above the cycle of domination and resistance, and to find new ways of creating the change we want to see in the world.

As we continue to raise awareness about colonization and justice, let us not forget to look in the mirror.

Let us strive to be the change we wish to see, to resist the colonizing tendencies within ourselves.

Only then can we hope to break the cycle and create a truly just and equitable world.

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If you're reading this and recognizing yourself—caught between the impulse to colonize and the desire to resist it, between passionate advocacy and genuine openness—this is the work.

The Whole Soul Way™ teaches you how to catch these patterns in real-time.

It's not about abandoning your convictions or your fight for justice. It's about learning to see when you're operating from ego and righteousness versus genuine care for change.

The foundational course (available free on my ELATE podcast on YouTube and podcast channels) teaches you:

- How to work with the part of you that needs to be right (so you can hold strong beliefs without making them your identity)
- How to catch yourself when you're trying to control or dominate others (even with good intentions)
- How to build capacity to sit with disagreement (without needing to convince, convert, or silence)
- How to integrate your shadow (the parts that judge, exclude, and dehumanize—even in service of "good" causes)

One practice we work with (self-inquiry): When you feel that righteous certainty rising—that "they just need to understand" energy—you learn to pause and ask: "What part of me needs to be right more than I need to connect? What am I protecting by needing to convince them?"

This work makes you more effective, not less.

More whole, not more weak.

Access The Whole Soul Way™ and begin your journey:

Watch on YouTube
Listen on Apple
Listen on Spotify

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Comment below: Have you been on both sides of this paradox? Where do you catch yourself trying to colonize others' minds, even while fighting against colonization? Or where have you been colonized for having nuanced views? I'd love to hear your experience.