Daily Betrayal in Polished Clothing

Why You’re Complicit Without Even Realizing It — A Mirror for the Respectable Follower

Something is wrong with the way we’ve come to live, and the strange thing is: no one seems to notice. You get up, work, talk, meet, call, consult, laugh, walk home, eat, watch something, fall asleep, and start again. Everything functions, everything keeps moving, everyone plays along — but somewhere beneath all this activity, something essential has shut down.

You keep your promises, you’re loyal, you’re polite, you communicate properly. You respond to messages on time, you say “thank you” when someone helps you, you nod when greeted, you use the right words. There’s nothing wrong with your behavior. And that, precisely, is the problem.

Your behavior is correct, but your presence has vanished. You perform the role flawlessly, but no one knows who’s behind it. And the truth is, neither do you. Everything you do stems from learned strategies: how to express yourself, how to avoid conflict, how to remain professional under pressure. All of it practiced, rehearsed, deployable. You’ve trained yourself to function — not to live.

It’s not that you feel nothing. You feel plenty. You feel that people no longer really look each other in the eye. You sense that meetings no longer contain actual conversation. You notice that those around you, like yourself, operate on autopilot. But you don’t name it. You’ve learned that naming what’s truly felt only leads to discomfort.

So you stay silent. You call it maturity. You call it responsibility. But in reality, it’s cowardice. Not dramatic cowardice, not malicious intent — but a deeply ingrained refusal to face the unbearable. And the unbearable is this: you know something’s off. You know you’re not being honest. You know that, day after day, you participate in something you no longer believe in.

And you know that in doing so, you’re not just betraying yourself, but others as well. You know your children see you with eyes drained of vitality. You know your partner no longer truly hears you, because you yourself have stopped listening. You know your colleagues are doing the same as you — keeping each other upright through mutual evasion.

You think this is what it means to be an adult. That this is simply how life works. But being an adult does not mean submitting to systems that slowly hollow you out from the inside. It doesn’t mean losing yourself under the banner of stability. It doesn’t mean exchanging your conscience for convenience.

You’re not stupid. You’re not evil. But you are complicit. Because you know exactly what you’re doing — and still you continue. You sense this can’t go on, but you look the other way. You speak of sustainability, well-being, inclusion, while knowing those words have become empty in the theatre you help maintain. You keep it tidy, you stay polite, you say the right things — and you lie.

Not loudly. Not obviously. But systematically. Day in, day out. To yourself, to others. You lie when you say you’re doing fine. You lie when you write emails with “happy to think along with you.” You lie when you schedule time for reflection in your calendar, knowing full well that time doesn’t really exist.

You know this. You’ve known it for a long time. But you’ve taught yourself to avoid standing still.

And yet — it happens. Somewhere between two meetings. In traffic. In a hallway. During a pointless call. Suddenly, you’re there. You see it. How ridiculous it has all become. How empty. How fake. And you feel shame. Not a little. Not briefly. But deeply — to the bone. Because you allowed it. Because you knew — and did nothing.

You thought you were making choices. But in truth, you were just available. For whatever was demanded of you. For whatever was expected.

And what you call “normal” is nothing more than collective numbness.

That you didn’t see it before is understandable.

That you still choose not to see it now is inexcusable.