Not Everyone Fits in a Box: The Grey Area of Politics and Life

For most of my life, I considered myself a liberal. I was a staunch Democrat and admired many prominent liberal politicians. But over the last year, I’ve begun to question whether I truly identify as a liberal or leftist.

It all started when I began engaging more with liberal and leftist communities. I encountered some brilliant individuals doing incredible work, and as I formed connections, I learned a lot about them—and even more about myself. At my core, I believe that we should not impose our way of life on others. We should allow people the freedom to make decisions that are best for them. After all, isn’t that what everyone wants? To be free?

However, while freedom is paramount, there are shared spaces that require collective agreements—our planet being one of the most obvious. We share this earth—its forests, mountains, oceans, and wildlife—and when it comes to nurturing and protecting it, we must come together. The same goes for things like healthcare, food systems, and education. Because we live so closely to one another, we are constantly faced with the need to make these decisions as a collective. So, we elect leaders to represent us and make these tough choices on our behalf.

In America, we are often told that we must choose a side—liberal or conservative, Democrat or Republican. The binary system makes it seem so simple, but in reality, most people hold liberal views on some issues and conservative views on others. Unfortunately, America has extended this binary to nearly every issue. We are expected to take a stand on everything, even issues that don’t directly involve us. This is evident in the media frenzy surrounding celebrity drama. Take, for example, the constant back-and-forth between Blake Lively and Justin Baldoni. One day, everyone rallies behind Blake; the next, it’s Justin. It’s a circus—and we, the public, are the clowns.

As I spent more time discussing issues with other liberals and leftists, I began to realize that I don’t fully align with their beliefs, especially on topics like gender roles, polygamy, and religion. For instance, my choice to remain monogamous was often met with criticisms about being indoctrinated by colonialism and patriarchy. But here’s the thing: I respect everyone’s right to live as they see fit. I don’t judge people for their choices, but I also believe that my relationships are sacred. I treat my body, mind, and spirit like a temple. I wouldn’t allow someone to enter my temple with dirty shoes, and similarly, I believe sex is a spiritual and energetic exchange. When we engage with multiple people, we exchange energies—both positive and negative. In Islam, you don’t just take off your shoes before entering a masjid, you have to do wudu (ritual of washing yourself). That’s just how I see it. It’s a personal belief, and I don’t impose it on anyone else. However, at a temple or church, it would be disrespectful to take off your shoes. To each its own.

Religion is another area where I don’t seem to fit neatly into either liberal or conservative boxes. In liberal and leftist circles, religion is often dismissed, sometimes even rejected outright, as patriarchal or colonial. Meanwhile, many conservatives embrace religion, but with a level of judgment that doesn’t resonate with me. I see religion as deeply personal and spiritual. My relationship with God is unique, and I don’t reject religion because it’s important to me. Prayer gives me strength, especially in times of hopelessness. I understand that many religious texts have been translated and interpreted by men, and I’m able to discern their meaning for myself. It’s my relationship with God, and it’s mine alone.

But perhaps the turning point for me came when I criticized communist regimes, specifically China, for human rights abuses. Each time I spoke out, I was met with backlash from leftists, many of whom dismissed my concerns as US propaganda. They accused me of spreading misinformation, simply for acknowledging the suffering that many people in communist countries endure. The truth is, two things can be true at once: yes, the US has a history of propaganda, but that doesn’t mean that the atrocities in countries like China aren’t real. There’s a certain level of allegiance to communism within some leftist circles, and while I recognize that communism has its merits, I don’t think it’s the answer to how we should live. Why are we only given two options—capitalism or communism? With over six billion people on this planet, surely we can create a new way of living that benefits everyone, including the planet. The idea that we have to choose between these two systems feels limiting.

Over the past few years, I’ve been working on a documentary with my cousin, Sadia, and through our travels, we’ve met people from all walks of life. I’ve realized that people are incredibly complex. Their values, their views on life, their politics—they don’t fit into neat categories. Most people live in the grey area. They don’t fall entirely to the left or the right. They’ve been shaped by real-life experiences that alter their perspectives. But society insists on labeling us, forcing us to take a stand on everything, even trivial matters, while the issues that truly matter often get lost in the noise.

The reality is that everyone has an opinion on everything—from celebrity gossip to political dramas—but when it comes to the important things, like human rights or social justice, the urgency of these issues can feel diluted. We’re made to feel like our stance on every little thing is essential, but when the big issues arise, we’ve been trained to react in the same way—without the true sense of urgency they deserve.

We are constantly told that we’re separate from each other and that we must impose our way of life on others. But the truth is, we are all connected. And if we don’t recognize that, we risk losing sight of what truly matters.