The Beige Calamity

Death of Individualism.

Everything feels… edited lately. Not calm. Not peaceful. Just… reduced. Conversations that never quite land anywhere. Opinions that arrive already softened. People who are easy to be around but difficult to locate. It is not that there is nothing to say. It is that nothing is being said fully. You see, dear reader, I find it uncomfortable, the comfort we have found in losing individualism, in losing a sense of self. At first, it reads as taste. As maturity. As a collective leaning toward simplicity. But sit with it long enough, and something else begins to surface, a quiet absence. Not loud enough to alarm, but persistent enough to notice. A sense that in trying to become more palatable, more acceptable, and more universally agreeable, something essential has been edited out: one's identity.

We have, in subtle and socially rewarded ways, learned how to present ourselves in neutral tones. Not just visually, but conversationally, emotionally, and intellectually. It is not always a conscious decision. It happens in small adjustments, phrases softened mid-sentence, opinions held back, and reactions measured before they are expressed. Over time, it becomes instinct. And you might think, dear reader, why is she so passionate about this? I believe we are all created uniquely with unique purposes that don't necessarily fit in the uniformities we are embracing. I caught myself a few years ago reducing and minimizing myself to fit in, and in that moment I could hear my father's voice at the back of my mind,“Kosy, uko sawa venye uko. If you want to change, let it be out of your will, something that grows you as an individual. Usikuwe opposed to change; embrace it. But you… I knew from when you were two, you would never fit into any cultural or societal box.” And maybe out of some bias too, I find myself not just bored, but uninterested with the lack of individuality.

You see it first in aesthetics because it is the easiest place to observe it. The same palettes are repeated across spaces, soft browns, creams, and muted greens. Everything is curated to feel cohesive, calming, and acceptable. Nothing that interrupts. Nothing that insists. It is called taste. But it is also safety. Because you could never go wrong with beige, right? Color has never been universally agreeable. It asks to be noticed. It risks being too much, too specific, too out of place. Beige, on the other hand, moves easily. It fits into most rooms, most expectations, most conversations. Color requires a decision. Beige requires approval. I have nothing against beige; it's just what it represents in this instance and the overuse of it.

That same logic has quietly moved into how people show up. Not as loud suppression, but as careful calibration. You say just enough. You react just enough. You reveal just enough. Not because you have nothing more to offer, but because you have learned what happens when you do. Emotionally, it looks like restraint, but not the intentional kind. Not the kind that comes from self-awareness, but the kind that comes from caution. Reactions are filtered in real time. Frustration is rebranded as understanding. Discomfort is reframed as growth. You are not suppressing. You are managing, and management, over time, replaces expression. You are being met, but not necessarily encountered. Interests overlap too easily. Perspectives match too quickly. It creates the feeling of connection, but something about it is thin.

There is a difference between being calm and being careful. Calm is internal. It does not need to prove itself. Careful is external. It is always anticipating a response. Online, this is rewarded. The safest expressions travel the furthest. The most agreeable perspectives are the easiest to engage with. Content that sits comfortably within what is already accepted moves without resistance. And so people learn, not necessarily what they believe, but what works. Over time, the distinction between the two begins to blur. You start to sound like what is received well. You start to choose what is easiest to hold in public. Not because it is false, but because it is less complicated. And slowly, you become easier to understand at a surface level but harder to locate beneath it, or rather, generic, interchangeable. All this is often termed as choosing peace. As avoiding unnecessary conflict. But not all conflict is unnecessary. And not all silence is growth. Sometimes, it is just avoidance with better language. And sometimes it's good to set aside our egos and question our status quo for a greater good. Now, in no way, shape, or position am I advocating for arrogance, ignorance, and disrespect dressed as identity, individuality, or disruption for a better or greater good.

We are not becoming neutral. We are becoming careful. And careful, over time, becomes a kind of absence. Nothing is said too strongly. Nothing is felt too deeply. Nothing is expressed in a way that might disrupt. Everything functions. Everything flows. But very little… lands. Case in point: the politics of our country. What makes this difficult to name is that nothing is obviously wrong. There are no loud fractures. No visible breakdowns. Just a quiet, consistent smoothing of edges.

A life edited for approval. Nothing is wrong, because nothing is fully there.