We live in a time when conservative and rigid ways of thinking have become deeply rooted, and systems of control—like bureaucracy, capitalism, and media—are stronger than ever. In this environment, even white supremacists who spread hate are praised as heroes. It’s disturbing, but it’s also a sign of how twisted our political landscape has become.

In such a world, living a revolutionary life might not look like traditional activism. It might not involve protests, organizing, or radical politics as we know them—because even those practices have been shaped by the same system they try to fight. They often demand self-sacrifice, discipline, and personal gain, which are values of the very capitalist machine we want to resist.

Instead, maybe the most radical thing we can do is create a new kind of person—a new way of being—that breaks through today’s numbness and political apathy. Only then can real political action become possible again.

But here’s the problem: when someone becomes newly radicalized—full of passion, urgency, and hope—the system quickly steps in to tame them. It drains away everything that makes their energy contagious: their naivete, their impatience, their refusal to compromise, and that strange joy that comes from seeing the truth, even when it’s hopeless.

That’s why I feel so disconnected from today’s activism. And it’s also why I believe that true love—real, public, defiant love between two people—can be revolutionary. If it resists all the fascist baggage society tries to attach to it, love can disrupt everything. It can be a form of rebellion.

I want to be naive enough to believe in humanity again.

©️ Beatriz Esmer