This text isn’t about domination. It’s about what quietly governs our lives.

Why I’m writing this

I asked myself a lot of questions.

Not to look smart. Not to convince anyone. Just to understand.

I observed. My friends. My family. The cultures I’ve lived in.

The glances in the street, the unspoken codes in conversations, the invisible hierarchies in every room.

But more than anything, I listened to myself.

And what I found inside wasn’t beautiful. It was raw.

It’s what my brain tries to bury.

Selfish thoughts. Less “humanistic” than I wanted to believe.

Ideas I was ashamed of, but they kept returning.

Judgments I thought I didn’t make , but I did.

Desires I thought were pure , but they were hungry for recognition, validation, attention.

So I told myself: stop lying.

Stop pretending we’re chasing happiness,

when what we’re really chasing is power.

Power is what society rewards, not what’s morally right

We grow up hearing things like: “be kind,” “follow your passion,” “happiness is in the little things.”

But in real life, the ones who get listened to, admired, obeyed,

are the ones who embody what society values.

Not what’s right. What’s desirable.

In one country, it’s money.

In another, it’s connections.

Somewhere else, it’s composure, looks, or the image of being a winner.

And everyone plays that game , even the ones who claim not to.

Even those who say they don’t care.

Because deep down, this game decides who rises, who gets heard, who shapes the narrative.

I saw It everywhere , and in myself too

When I was around smart, funny, cultured people, I listened.

But when someone with status walked in , someone who carried a social aura , everything shifted.

Even the sharpest minds straightened up.

And in those moments, I felt erased.

Like my worth depended on the mirror others held up to me.

Like my words meant more or less depending on who was listening.

Not what I was saying.

I saw it at dinners, in interviews, among friends.

And sometimes I played along.

Sometimes I even faked it , surrounded myself with people who made me look better.

Not because it was true. But because it was useful.

Socially useful.

Status, relationships, and the silent contract

There are things I didn’t want to admit.

Like this one thought I found disgusting , but real:

Being with someone who’s socially valued gives you power by association.

People look at you differently. They assign you status you didn’t earn.

And the opposite is just as brutal.

If you’re with someone society sees as “unremarkable,” it’s like walking around with proof that you couldn’t do better.

It’s unfair. It’s ugly. But it’s real.

I’ve thought it. Felt it. Seen it.

Even when I wanted to love unconditionally,

my brain whispered, “What will people think?”

And that voice , it wasn’t mine.

It was the voice of the system I grew up in.

Speaking through me.

So what now?

I don’t have a solution.

But I want to be honest with myself:

Power runs our lives more than love, more than morality, more than truth.

And as long as I denied that, I was playing by rules I didn’t understand.

Now I see them.

And maybe that’s the start of some kind of freedom.

Not a clean freedom. Not a perfect one.

But at least, lucidity.

And sometimes, lucidity is more powerful than happiness.