Conflict is everywhere. It's between nations, communities, colleagues, and even within ourselves.

I learned this the hard way in a meeting with a colleague where the tension became unbearable. I told the board I needed to leave. Another colleague suggested I take some time to write down my concerns but reminded me, “We need you at this meeting.” I went to my office, wrote for ten minutes, and cried. When I returned, I put my chest on my knees under the table and cried for the remainder of the meeting. I didn’t listen to myself. I went back in because the system needed me. Business as usual, at my expense. There was no space to talk about what happened, no opportunity to share feelings, no acknowledgment of our humanity. Just keep moving.

This experience showed me how deeply our systems and our conditioning can ignore human needs. Across the globe, systems, including democratic institutions are being shaped, and in many places run, by people who openly disregard human rights, the rule of law, and the basic principles of justice. At the same time, many of us feel disoriented, overwhelmed, and unsure of how we are meant to respond when conflict arises in our workplaces, families, or communities.

The Worldview We Were Trained Into

We have been conditioned to see the world through a particular lens — one rooted in fear, scarcity, and individualism. In a neoliberal culture, we are taught (often subtly, sometimes explicitly) that we are on our own. That our worth is measured by productivity. That survival, success, and safety are individual achievements rather than collective ones.

This worldview shows up in familiar slogans and stories:

 

• Pull yourself up by your bootstraps
• If you work hard enough, you’ll succeed
• Personal responsibility above all else
• No one owes you anything
• Winners and losers

 

These ideas shape not only our economic systems, but our nervous systems. They train us to compete rather than cooperate, to mistrust rather than lean on one another, and to see vulnerability as weakness.

As Wendy Brown warns, “Neoliberalism seeks to eliminate the very idea of the social.” Our society pushes the narrative that connection is optional, dependence is weakness, and collective care is secondary. This conditioning shapes not just systems, but how we handle conflict - often alone, unarmed with the tools to respond constructively.

The Cost of Doing It Alone

Whether we admit it or not, many of us have been trained to produce more, push harder, and handle things on our own.

Humans have never survived alone. Our earliest ancestors lived in collectives because survival depended on it. If you were alone, you were vulnerable to starvation, exposure, or predators. Community wasn’t a luxury; it was a necessity.

The truth is, this hasn’t changed. We still need each other to survive, emotionally, socially, and politically. But we have been sold a different story. One that says dependence is failure and connection slows us down.

Fear, Trauma, and Curiosity

Covid, personal and collective trauma, and hyper-consumerism have reinforced the idea that connection is dangerous. That others are threats. That closeness comes at a cost.

For many of us, unresolved trauma shapes how we show up in conflict. As Loretta J. Ross explains, we have a choice: to be “trauma-informed”, acknowledging and understanding our pain or “trauma-driven”, letting our pain dictate our actions. When we are trauma-driven, we end up “bleeding on others”: converting our unaddressed hurt into rage, frustration, or harmful behaviors that get weaponized against the people around us.

Prentis Hemphill wrote in What it takes to Heal,

 

"Over time, I have come to understand that social transformation (the push for more just systems and policies) and personal transformation (healing our own trauma and reshaping our relationships) have to happen together. Not one or the other, but both. We neglect ourselves or our growth in our rush to change what is external. When we do, we fracture and succumb to what we are unwilling to face".

 

We often hear that curiosity is the answer. And while curiosity can be powerful, it’s not accessible to everyone at all times. Curiosity, asking questions of others and doing your best to really hear them, is how we connect. For someone who is fearful and in survival mode, curiosity can feel dangerous. When your nervous system is organized around survival, openness can register as a threat. In that state, the body’s job isn’t to learn, it’s to protect.

This matters because asking people to connect, listen, or be curious won’t work if they don’t first know themselves and feel grounded in who they are or at least grounded in that moment. For some, this means we need to give them the space to do that, or model it for them ourselves. Understanding our nervous systems, our patterns, and how we respond internally gives us the ability to respond rather than react, and to engage in curiosity in ways that are safe, authentic, and meaningful. If we skip this step, it isn’t just ineffective - it can actually cause harm.

Reflective Questions

Think about conflict in your household growing up:

 

• Was it ignored or avoided?
• Was it talked through openly?
• Did people respond with yelling or violence?
• Or did conflict rarely, if ever, happen in your home?

 

Now, notice what happens in your body as you reflect:

 

• Does your chest tense?
• Do you feel like you want to make yourself small?
• Does your brain start telling stories or replaying scenarios?

 

Just notice...

Understanding how conflict has shaped us individually is an important step toward understanding ourselves. It helps us see how we can strengthen our capacity to move from rugged individualism toward collective connection, and identify the internal or external barriers that may be standing in our way.

Turning away may feel safer, but real change requires facing conflict with clarity and care.

The Work Starts With Us

We cannot change systems on our own.

But we can start by changing how we relate to ourselves.

This means getting honest about:

 

• our relationship with conflict
• how our bodies respond to tension
• when we shut down, lash out, freeze, or flee
• what we fear about other people

 

Starting with ourselves is not selfish, it’s foundational.

When we understand our nervous systems and recognize when we are in threat mode, we gain choice. We can pause. We can breathe. We can respond instead of react.

This is how we begin to bring others in.

The Mirror Is Hard and Necessary

I’ve been on this journey for the past nine years, and I won’t pretend it’s easy.

Looking honestly at yourself can be terrifying. Seeing your own behaviors. Recognizing the harm you’ve caused to others and to yourself. Facing shame, grief, and regret.

It’s hard.

But so is feeling powerless.

So is the sense that the world is happening to you. So is believing you have no voice, no agency, and no impact.

For many of us, that powerlessness is familiar. Family systems, education, healthcare, racism, sexism, ableism - these forces have lived in our nervous systems for a long time, telling us to be quiet, comply, and not question.

Oppression can feel like a warm blanket - familiar, predictable, and known.

But familiar does not mean healthy.

Letting Go of the “Warm Blanket”

At times in my own healing, I’ve wanted to cling to what I knew. That old blanket wrapped around me.

But here’s what I’ve come to understand about it:

It’s dirty. It’s soaked in shame and blame. It’s full of holes that let self-loathing seep in while rarely letting it out.

The systems we’ve grown accustomed to do not make us well. They disconnect us from ourselves and from each other. They tell us again and again that we do not matter.

But we do matter.

We always have.

And the systems that benefit from our isolation are deeply threatened when we realize that.

Why Collective Strength Scares Power

When we believe we matter and when we believe others matter too, something shifts.

We become harder to divide. Harder to silence. Harder to control.

As Buckminster Fuller reminds us, “You never change things by fighting the existing reality. To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete.” Collective courage isn’t about battling the old system in isolation. Collective courage is about creating spaces, practices, and ways of being that embody the care, connection, and justice we want to see.

A Quiet, Radical Invitation

What if, just for a moment, we believed the world could be different?

Even for a nanosecond.

If that possibility exists, then each of us has a role to play.

Not by fixing everything. Not by being perfect. But by having the courage to look inward and reach outward.

To excavate our fears. To tend to our nervous systems. To stay present when connection feels uncomfortable.

This is how we move from rugged individualism to collective courage.

Not alone. But together.