When Experience Becomes A Cage

You don’t know what I know—so you can’t possibly get what I’m trying to say.

Your experience hasn’t been mine—and that makes you wrong.

These are the unspoken beliefs behind so many modern arguments. They’re not always shouted. Often, they’re whispered through tone. Or tucked neatly between the lines of a social post. Or lobbed passively in a group chat like a grenade wrapped in nostalgia or ideology.

It’s what happens when lived experience turns into a belief system.

Not a value. Not a truth. A system.

And the more entrenched we get, the harder it becomes to step outside our own story long enough to consider someone else’s.

Victims of Our Own Experience

We all do it.

Because it’s easier to cling to a known narrative than to admit that maybe—just maybe—our story isn’t the only one playing out.

We become so devoted to our version of reality that we lose the ability to zoom out.

To ask:

• What might this look like through someone else’s eyes?

• What systems might make their experience fundamentally different from mine?

• Is it possible that my truth is still true… and incomplete?

This is where meaning breaks down—right at the point where curiosity ends and certainty begins.

Boomer vs Millennial. MAGA vs Liberal. Etc.

The boomer who calls millennials lazy without asking:

“What's different now?”

The millennial who writes off boomers without wondering:

“What survival mechanisms shaped them?”

The MAGA devotee who sees threats everywhere but can’t locate the source.

The liberal who fights for nuance… until the conversation gets uncomfortable.

Everyone thinks they’re awake.

Everyone thinks they’re the exception.

Everyone thinks they’re right.

The Point Isn’t to Agree

The point is to notice the moment you stop listening.

To get curious about what you’re defending.

To ask yourself not, “Who’s right?” but:

“What’s being protected here—and why?”

Because when you dig far enough beneath every entrenchment, you usually find some mix of fear, identity, and unresolved loss.

And the only way through that?

Is honesty.

Not performance.

Not rhetoric.

Not memes.

Just honesty.

What’s Really Happening in the Brain

When experience hardens into identity, a few key psychological mechanisms kick in. Not because we’re bad or small-minded—but because our minds are trying to protect us.

1. Identity-Protective Cognition

We tend to reject facts that threaten our social identity.

If I believe this, what does it say about me?

If I change my mind, what happens to my tribe?

So instead of engaging, we defend. Even when we know—somewhere underneath—it doesn’t add up. This is why even intelligent, empathetic people can become hostile in political or generational debates.

2. Confirmation Bias

Once you believe something, your brain subconsciously starts collecting evidence to support it—and filtering out anything that contradicts it.

A liberal sees one MAGA supporter screaming at a school board meeting = “See? Dangerous.”

A conservative sees one gender-inclusive cartoon = “See? Indoctrination.”

We’re not assessing reality. We’re curating it.

3. Cognitive Dissonance

When new information challenges a deeply held belief, it causes discomfort.

We either adjust our belief (hard), or reject the info (easy).

So we cling harder. To the generation we idealize.

To the America we imagined.

To the version of ourselves that never got it wrong.

4. Psychological Projection

Sometimes, the judgment we throw at others is a mirror.

The “lazy” accusation toward the younger generation?

Could be grief about being overworked and undervalued—and never knowing how to stop.

The vitriol toward “softness” in others?

Might just be unprocessed shame about how we weren’t allowed to feel anything growing up.

What We Miss When We Don’t Zoom Out

When we’re stuck in our own trenches, we don’t just misunderstand others—we lose access to ourselves.

We forget that:

• Every generation is shaped by the tools it inherits.

• Beliefs are often stand-ins for belonging.

• And what we demonize most… is often what we fear we might become.

So maybe the goal isn’t to be right.

Maybe it’s to be aware.

Aware of when your story has stopped growing.

Aware of when your identity is doing all the talking.

Aware that defending your experience doesn’t require invalidating someone else’s.

Beneath the Beliefs

Underneath the certainty, the outrage, the sharp edges of debate—

There’s often something softer trying to get out.

A desire to feel understood.

A fear of being irrelevant.

A grief we haven’t made space for.

A need to know we still matter.

And while it’s tempting to protect our story at all costs,

what if the deeper strength is in making room for someone else’s?

Not because they’re right.

Not because we’re wrong.

But because mutual recognition might be the only way through this cultural fog we’re in.

So if you feel yourself shutting down—try pausing instead.

If you feel yourself gearing up for war—get curious about what you’re defending.

And if someone else’s experience sounds unfamiliar, don’t turn away.

It might just be showing you the edges of your own growth.

This isn’t about giving up what you know.

It’s about making space for what you don’t—

without making that feel like a threat.

Maybe the most radical thing we can do right now

is to remember:

Truth doesn’t have to be exclusive to be real.

A Note on Basic Human Rights

Before we go further, let this be clear:

No one asks to be born.

And the basic decencies of being human—dignity, autonomy, safety, and the right to exist as you are—are not up for debate.

This conversation about belief systems and identity is not a call to tolerate dehumanization, discrimination, or violence under the guise of “understanding both sides.”

Respecting differences does not mean legitimizing oppression.

Holding nuance does not mean excusing harm.

At its core, this discussion is about honoring each person’s right to be—without coercion, erasure, or fear.

And that is categorically nonnegotiable.