Internalized Oppression: The Oppressor Within
Tools of Oppression in Relationships
This article is part of my Tools of Oppression in Relationships series. Click here to start from the beginning.
Internalized oppression is one of the most harmful and insidious tools of power-over systems. It occurs when individuals from marginalized groups absorb and adopt the oppressive narratives and structures imposed on them. This phenomenon does not arise in a vacuum – it is the direct result of erasure, standardization, and dependency, which strip people of their history, autonomy, and self-determination. When oppression becomes so deeply embedded that it is no longer externally enforced but instead upheld by the oppressed themselves, the system has done exactly what it set out to do.
Internalized oppression is a survival mechanism. When confronted with relentless marginalization, many subconsciously attempt to align with the dominant culture to gain access, safety, and legitimacy. Over time, this morphs into belief, leading oppressed people to police themselves and each other, reinforcing the very systems that harm them.
How Erasure, Standardization, and Dependency Lead to Internalized Oppression
Internalized oppression is the end result of a long process that begins with erasure, is reinforced through standardization, and is locked in place by dependency. These tools work together to strip people of their ability to define themselves, making them dependent on the systems that oppress them. When this process achieves its goal, the oppressed not only comply with the system – they defend it, enforce it, and pass it down to their children.
Erasure severs the link between a people and their history, making the dominant system seem like the only option. When entire ways of thinking, being, and relating are erased, future generations do not even know what was lost. They do not grieve what they never knew existed and they internalize the values, norms, and limitations imposed on them.
Many people of African descent, for example, do not know about the vast traditions of community parenting that existed in African societies before the transatlantic slave trade. Instead, they are fed the narrative that the nuclear family is the only valid structure, even though that model was not designed to serve them. Without knowledge of these erased traditions, people often assume that single-parent households are inherently broken rather than recognizing that extended kinship networks were systematically dismantled through colonization and forced assimilation.
The same happens with identity, language, and cultural practices. Indigenous children in residential schools were punished for speaking their mother tongues. Colonized people across the world were taught that their religions and beliefs were primitive and that their spiritual practices were demonic. Over time, these messages became internalized: What was once erased externally becomes erased by self.
Standardization compounds erasure by replacing lost traditions with a singular, dominant ideal. This ideal is presented as the benchmark for intelligence, beauty, morality, and success. Those who fall outside of it are made to feel defective.
This is where respectability, one of the most effective tools of internalized oppression, enters the equation. Once people have been disconnected from their own cultural values, they begin measuring themselves against the dominant standard. They strive to fit the mold, often at great personal cost.
Examples:
AAVE (African American Vernacular English) is labeled “improper,” leading many Black people to distance themselves from it, believing that policing their own speech will grant them acceptance.
Women are told that their value is tied to their ability to be desirable to men, leading them to enforce beauty standards on one another, even when those standards harm them.
Children are judged based on rigid developmental timelines, as if their minds should develop more predictably than their height.
Love itself is standardized through the relationship escalator, where one must date, marry, have children, and stay together for life to be considered successful.
Standardization makes it so that people are not only expected to conform, but also to punish those who do not. Internalized oppression takes root when people no longer need external enforcers to impose on them – they impose on themselves and each other.
Once erasure and standardization have done their work, people become dependent on the dominant system. They rely on it for validation, security, and even identity. This is what makes internalized oppression so effective: those who suffer under the system become its greatest defenders.
Bargaining with Oppression
What is commonly called respectability politics is more than just a pressure to assimilate, it is a bargain with oppression. It is the belief that if the oppressed perform well enough, behave well enough, and conform thoroughly enough, they will be granted safety and dignity. This belief is rooted in false hope, the hope that oppression can be escaped through individual effort rather than collective dismantling.
However, no amount of respectability can ever dismantle an oppressive system. It only reinforces the idea that dignity is conditional and must be earned. This is why respectability, as it is normally defined, is an illusion – it offers temporary reprieve to a select few, while leaving the structures of oppression fully intact.
A better term than respectability might be appeasement. It is the oppressed appeasing the system in the hopes that compliance will grant them a better life. But oppression will not be eliminated through compliance; oppression will simply shift its terms.
How Appeasement Functions
It shifts the blame onto individuals instead of the system.
Rather than acknowledging structural inequality, appeasement convinces marginalized people that their struggles are personal failings.
Mental health challenges are framed as an individual weakness rather than a systemic issue. Instead of questioning the relentless demands of capitalism, people are told to “practice self-care” and “build resilience.” Therapy becomes a tool for adjusting to exploitation rather than dismantling the conditions that create distress in the first place.
Housing instability is blamed on poor financial choices rather than systemic inequity. People struggling to afford housing are told to budget better or stop buying lattes while wages stagnate and housing costs rise. Meanwhile, real estate speculation and corporate land ownership ensure that home ownership becomes increasingly out of reach.
The failure of public education is blamed on students and teachers, not the enormous systemic problems. Standardized testing frames success as a measure of individual intelligence or effort, ignoring how schools in marginalized communities are systematically deprived of resources, updated curricula, and well-paid teachers. (These problems are just the tip of the iceberg.)
By shifting responsibility onto individuals, the system remains unchallenged while those struggling within it internalize guilt and self-doubt.
It creates hierarchy within marginalized groups.
Oppressive systems benefit when marginalized people police each other instead of challenging the root of their oppression.
Class divisions among immigrants reinforce assimilation pressure. Recent immigrants are often told to work harder and adapt faster by those who have already secured a foothold in the dominant culture. Some view speaking the dominant language fluently or rejecting cultural traditions as markers of success, reinforcing erasure.
Disability hierarchies create division rather than stability. Some disabled individuals who can mask their disabilities may distance themselves from those with more visible disabilities. The notion of the “inspirational disabled person” who overcomes obstacles frames those who need greater accommodations as burdens rather than as people deserving of access and inclusion.
People of African descent who achieve mainstream “success” are often pressured, both externally and internally, to distance themselves from those deemed “ghetto” or “too Black.” This fuels class-based divisions within the Black community where proximity to whiteness is mistaken for legitimacy, and those who embody white supremacist standards of professionalism and respectability reinforce them against others. The fear of being associated with the “wrong” kind of Blackness leads some to police language, fashion, and behavior, distancing themselves from the group in an effort to maintain status, rather than challenging the oppressive standards that created the divisions in the first place.
By fostering these divisions, the system prevents unity among oppressed groups, ensuring that they compete for limited recognition rather than working together to demand justice.
It reinforces the idea that suffering is proof of worth.
The glorification of suffering ensures that people endure oppression rather than resist it.
Workers take pride in never taking time off even as their labor is exploited. The ability to push through exhaustion, illness, or personal hardship is often celebrated as a strong work ethic, rather than acknowledged as the result of a system that punishes rest.
Many first-generation graduates are told that their success is owed to their family’s sacrifices, reinforcing the idea that suffering is a necessary price for opportunity. Choosing a creative or alternative career path is often framed as ungrateful, rather than as an assertion of personal agency.
Romantic partners endure emotional hardship under the belief that love is meant to be difficult. Many people stay in unfulfilling or harmful relationships because they have been taught that love is something one must work for, rather than something to be given and received freely.
By normalizing suffering as an inevitable price to pay for success, the system discourages people from imagining alternatives. If pain is required, why resist it?
Each of these functions leads to the same ultimate goal: the preservation of oppressive systems by making oppression appear natural, inevitable, and even desirable. This all culminates in a dangerous message: that the system isn’t the problem. People blame themselves, marginalized groups turn against each other instead of uniting, and suffering is seen as honorable. All the while, the system remains intact, untouched, and unquestioned.
Internalized Oppression in Personal Relationships
Oppression is not just a societal structure. It infiltrates the most intimate spaces of our lives. The way we relate to our children, our partners, and ourselves is deeply shaped by what we have internalized about power, control, and worth.
Parenting
Many parents unknowingly reproduce oppression within their families by measuring a child’s success based on how well they conform to the system, rather than how well they develop as individuals. This is not entirely the fault of the parents; it is the result of generations of conditioning that ties survival to obedience.
Many who were beaten or emotionally manipulated during childhood believe it was for their own good and repeat these patterns with their own children. The idea that “tough love” builds resilience is an internalized belief that suffering is necessary for success and preparing them for the so-called “real world.” But resilience without healing only teaches children how to endure oppression, not how to challenge it.
Many parents celebrate a child’s ability to obey authority without questioning whether that authority is just. Schools reinforce this by rewarding compliance over curiosity. A child is deemed successful not when they are happy or fulfilled, but when they achieve within the systems – good grades, prestigious jobs, financial security. These goals often come at the expense of self-awareness, creativity, and authenticity.
Parents often push children toward “stability.” Children are encouraged to pick careers based on what will make them “secure” rather than what will make them fulfilled. The definition of success is not self-defined but dictated by external validation such as degrees, promotions, and financial milestones.
The result? A generation who know how to succeed in an oppressive world but not how to challenge it. Who equate personal worth with productivity. Who fear uncertainty and choose predictable misery over the unknown. Who, in trying to make their parents proud, lose themselves in the process.
What would it look like to raise children who are not just prepared for the world as it is, but who are capable of imagining something better?
Romantic Relationships
Oppressive structures do not just shape how we work and how we parent, they also shape how we love. Many people have internalized the idea that romantic love is hard work. This belief is rooted in scarcity, dependency, and a lack of models for relationships built on mutual care rather than control.
Many believe that enduring mistreatment is proof of devotion. They see love as something one fights for rather than something that should be freely given. This belief is deeply tied to the way many were taught to see love in childhood – contingent, transactional, and something to be earned rather than received unconditionally.
The idea that jealousy, control, and possessiveness are signs of deep love stems from a history of treating relationships as a product of ownership. “If they don’t get jealous, do they really care?” is a question that many ask without realizing that it assumes love should involve control. Many fear their partner’s autonomy because they have been conditioned to believe that love only lasts when it is carefully managed.
Some people stay in relationships that do not serve them because they have been told that leaving means they gave up too easily. They force themselves to tolerate relationships that drain them. The work of love should be about growing together, not about proving how much suffering one can withstand before walking away. So many people enter relationships because they fear being alone. Being single is often treated as a failure, as if a person’s worth is determined by whether someone else has chosen them for romance. Relationships become less about connection and more about proving one’s value through partnership.
These beliefs are not innate, they are inherited. We learn them from a world that has taught us that love, like everything else, must be controlled and earned rather than nurtured and chosen. But what would it look like if love were based on abundance rather than scarcity? If we let go of control and instead cultivated trust? If relationships were spaces of liberation rather than obligation?
Reclaiming Our Worth Beyond Struggle & Assimilation
The work of dismantling oppressive systems starts with yourself. Breaking free from internalized oppression does not mean simply rejecting oppressive systems – it means rejecting the idea that our worth is conditional.
Across cultures, religions, and social systems, people are taught that enduring hardship is not just inevitable but noble – that suffering purifies, refines, and makes one more deserving. This belief is deeply embedded in many religious traditions, while suffering is framed as a test of faith, a prerequisite for divine favor, or a pathway to enlightenment. Christianity, for example, holds up the narrative of its central figure’s suffering and sacrifice as the ultimate act of love and redemption. Followers are encouraged to embrace pain with the promise of a greater reward, whether in this life or the next. It’s no wonder that religion is so effective at keeping the oppressed in their place.
This mindset does not stop at faith. It seeps into secular culture, shaping how we view success, self-worth, and relationships. The obsession with rags-to-riches stories, for instance, reveals how suffering is glorified. A person who has struggled is often seen as more deserving than someone who has always had stability, reinforcing the idea that hardship is a necessary price for achievement rather than an indicator of systemic failure.
This serves power-over systems exceptionally well. If people accept suffering as a requirement for success, they are less likely to question the conditions that make suffering so widespread. It shifts focus from why suffering is happening to how well people endure it. It tells us that our energy should go into proving our strength rather than dismantling the systems that make such strength necessary for survival.
Perhaps the most insidious aspect of this is that it turns suffering into a marker of moral superiority. People take pride in how much they have endured, often resenting those who have had it “easier” rather than challenging the systems that created their struggle. Those who reject suffering by setting boundaries, refusing to overwork, or seeking ease are often judged as weak, lazy, entitled, or ungrateful.
But the truth is this: suffering does not inherently make someone stronger, wiser, or more deserving.
What makes people strong is access to care, support, and the freedom to live with dignity. What makes people wise is reflection, not pain itself. And what makes people deserving is simply their existence, not how much they have endured.
Reclaiming our worth means shifting from a mindset of survival to one of self-acceptance and collective care. It means valuing rest without guilt. It means choosing relationships that nourish rather than drain. It means embracing our identities fully, without needing external validation. It means honoring wisdom and knowledge that oppressive systems tried to erase.
Breaking the Cycle: Rejecting Internalized Oppression
Breaking free from internalized oppression is not just about resisting external forces. It’s about unlearning the belief that our worth is something we must constantly prove. Marginalized people are taught that respectability, appeasement, assimilation, and struggle are costs of acceptance, that we must conform to be granted safety, and that our suffering makes us worthy. But these ideas serve the same lie: that we must earn the right to exist freely.
Marginalized people have long been taught that playing by the system’s rules is the only path to success. But success within an oppressive system is NOT liberation. It is a temporary seat at the oppressor’s table, offered with conditions that can be revoked at any time. The truth is, the system is designed to keep us begging for a place within it rather than questioning whether the table itself should exist at all.
To truly liberate ourselves, we must reject the idea that struggle and conformity make us more deserving. We must refuse to perform in exchange for survival. We must refuse to glorify suffering as a necessary pathway to success. Instead, we must demand ease, joy, and fulfillment, not as rewards for endurance but as fundamental rights.
Respectability and appeasement are a sinking ship offering a temporary illusion of safety, but it was not built to carry us to liberation. At some point, we must stop rearranging the chairs on the deck and jump ship – not because we have failed to succeed within its structure, but because it was never meant for us. The only true escape is to abandon it entirely, to reject the idea that our dignity must be earned and instead demand a world where it is inherent.
Ultimately, rejecting assimilation and the glorification of suffering are the same act: the radical assertion that our existence does not need to be justified.
We are already enough. We always have been.
Click here to read the next article in the series - Moral Judgment: Dividing Right From Wrong
I wish more people had the opportunity to read this powerful call to action about how self love and self-acceptance can aid in the dismantling of oppressive systems. Just wow...
My abusive childhood did this to me. Society just reinforces it. I cannot stop self-oppressing at this point…at age 54.