Oppression does not arise from a dark inevitability in human nature. It happens when fear, hierarchy, and unprocessed trauma come together. Many cultures have struggled with these forces, though not all have fallen victim to them; some endured through reciprocity, others through domination.

Oppression, then, is not innate to humanity; it is a defensive structure born from wounds. What is learned through fear can, with care, be unlearned through humility.

I left boarding school carrying not just my school blazer and a polished sense of privilege but also a deep well of shame, confusion, and a fractured sense of self. On the surface, I appeared to be articulate, capable, and respectable. Inside, I bore the marks of humiliation, the kind that blurs discipline with worthlessness, strength with cruelty, and authority with moral truth.

For years, I didn’t fully grasp the depth of this wound. Like many men from similar backgrounds, I worked hard, sought success, and took pride in my independence. I learned to appear competent and confident. But beneath it all was a sort of ache, a dislocation within the nervous system. Something in me recoiled from intimacy and bristled at the thought of vulnerability. I knew how to dominate a therapy room, but I didn't know how to be genuinely held in it.

Eventually, the suffering that had been hidden beneath the surface started to emerge. It guided me, initially cautiously and then with growing urgency, towards psychotherapy, meditation, and the slow, patient process of disentangling the internalised narratives I had been fed…