- There’s something quietly insidious about the way we apologize for ambition. We smile politely when we talk about wanting more, as if desire itself is a crime.
- And I can’t help but wonder maybe it’s the ghosts of colonialism whispering still.
There’s something quietly insidious about the way we apologize for ambition. We smile politely when we speak of wanting more, as if desire itself were a crime.
We apologize for dreaming, for asking, for hoping. And I can’t help but wonder—maybe it’s the ghosts of colonialism whispering still.
Colonialism didn’t just take land, resources, or freedom. It rewired our minds to believe we should settle. It stole the confidence to claim what is ours.
For generations, we were taught to be grateful for scraps, to accept limits, to believe that asking for more was selfish or disrespectful.
Those lessons didn’t die with independence. They became part of how we see ourselves, how we measure worth, how we temper ambition.
Today, that conditioning lives on. We hedge our words, soften our requests, preface our dreams with apologies. Ambition, growth, and desire become things we must defend instead of embrace.
We step lightly toward opportunity, unsure if we deserve it—as if claiming what is ours is somehow wrong. And the problem is, it’s exhausting. A subtle, invisible weight. A habit of shrinking ourselves before the world even notices us.
Over time, we begin to believe that humility is the only acceptable form of ambition. That silence is safer than asking. That dreaming too loudly might invite judgment. We police ourselves in ways no one else would.
But wanting more is not greed. Asking for better is not arrogance. Desiring growth is not disrespect. Colonialism may have taught us to apologize for dreaming—but we don’t have to keep learning the same lesson.
We can step boldly into our ambitions. Claim what is ours. Refuse to whisper “I’m sorry” before every sentence.
Our parents’ generation was grateful for survival. Maybe it’s our job to be unapologetic about thriving. To demand space, opportunity, and respect—without bowing to a legacy that once told us ambition was shameful.
To reject the habit of smallness. To embrace what we are capable of achieving.
Colonialism may have shaped how we saw ourselves for decades. But it cannot dictate how we see ourselves today.
Wanting more is not a sin. It is overdue. It is rightful. And it is ours to claim.
It is time we stop apologizing for ambition—and start celebrating it.
