It’s time to break up with internalized racism
You know the story. You’ve been in the relationship for such a long time, it’s almost as if you can’t live without them. Who even are you without them to define you? Where would you be if they hadn’t saved you?
Aren’t you silly thinking you could’ve saved yourself all those years ago—silly, stupid, undesirable you?
Like any toxic relationship, the consequences of colonialism are more insidious than just the overt signs of abuse. They also include psychological and spiritual scars.
You defend them against your friends and family, saying that they’re way better than they seem, that the way they “hurt” you was really how they loved you. When you think you’ve finally put your foot down, they hit you up just when you’re about to leave. They draw you back in with promises too good to be true. They say you wouldn’t survive a moment without them. The relationship has its deep, horrible, spine-curdling lows that wreck your self-worth, self-respect, and—god forbid—your health, but the highs make up for it, right?
Tall, dark, and alluring, colonialism has got you wrapped around its finger.
Like any toxic relationship, the consequences of colonialism are more insidious than just the overt signs of abuse (these can be stolen or capped finances, demands of undervalued labor and resources, an insecure home life, and violence). They also include psychological and spiritual scars, leaving ex-colonies with hairline cracks in their psyche that could leave them crumbling.

E.J.R. David, a professor of psychology at the University of Alaska Anchorage, has spent his career studying internalized racism and colonial mentality in Filipinos and Filipino communities in the States. His research finds that even homebound Filipinos are affected by a mentality that sees Filipinos as servants to colonial rulers like America, whom former colonies also admire. Inflicted by internalized racism—an aspect of colonial mentality—and all its messages, people from former colonies absorb and model beliefs, ideas and behaviors that support their oppression. This form of self-harm is a byproduct of centuries of colonial abuse.
Throughout multiple colonial rules, we have been confronted with the message that we are lesser than the big dogs who brought Catholicism, democracy and all the different social orders they thought would be good for us as they made us second-class citizens in our own home. We have been told that we are ugly, stupid, and backward savages; half-devil and half-child.
Now, we spit those messages back out at ourselves and other oppressed groups while we’ve put our abusers on a pedestal. Filipinos are ignorant, undisciplined; in need of saving, of violent “strong men” to keep us in line.
Meanwhile, Americans, East Asians, and Europeans are beautiful and intelligent, living in societies that are perfect due to their virtue of being foreign (and definitely for no other reason; ignore our stolen resources, displaced population, and the constant orbiting of our “ex-”colonizers). We are servants. It is our purpose to serve.

In an interview with Young STAR, David describes how internalized racism manifests as Filipinos feeling inferior to other nationalities and feeling ashamed or embarrassed for being from the Philippines or not being Western enough. The consequences of it are deep-rooted: self-esteem, career or academic goals and personal aspirations are lower, while feelings of hopelessness, depression, and anxiety are higher. From popularizing skin-whitening products to finding ways to serve other nations better than we serve ourselves, the Philippines does not need to worry about its orbiting “exes” when it continues the abuse itself.
An aspect of abuse, be it personal or political, is that it tricks survivors into believing that they are not worth redemption and that goodness is a foreign thing. How can you dream of a better future for yourself if you don’t think you deserve it; if you believe you are incapable of getting there on your own? An internalized sense of hatred for ourselves blinds us to systems of inequality and stops us from pulling the mask over our eyes to see that our abusers have made it so difficult to live without them. It stops us from seeing how they’ve hurt us. It normalizes hatred for ourselves and people like us. It normalizes our continued brutalization at the hands of people who see us as disposable—including other Filipinos. What cultural or policy shifts can be made if we realize that even we deserve better, full stop, no special conditions necessary?
To tear the Band-Aid off: You’ve been conditioned to hate yourself. Here’s the Betadine: In a system of hate, it is a radical act to love.
“We can do this piece by piece,” David says about finding ways to work out of internalized racism and the colonial mentality. “The problem is so big. It’s so ingrained. It would get pretty overwhelming if we looked at it in totality. I think one way to approach it is to start small.”
We can start by disentangling ourselves from racism and filling the space with something new—be it knowledge, grace, or compassion. Learn the consequences of our colonial history, what racism looks like in all its complex faces, and how communities across the world address it on personal and institutional levels. Use this knowledge to empower yourself through your breakup.
Much like the memories of your ex, the biases you have are hard to erase. Noticing how you hurt yourself and others and stopping are exercises to get better at, not something you instantly adopt. It is perfectly all right to not be perfect. You will lapse, and all you can do is give yourself, and other people, grace.
When addressing uncomfortable topics with others, you want a conversation. As much as you can’t argue your friend out of a bad situationship with someone you know is bad news, you can’t rely on righteous call-outs to change minds. Call society out on systemic injustices, man-made inequalities, and the various abuses our “exes” give us.
But your community? Ask questions, redirect ideas, and be firm. Why is the slang for beggars “Bajau”? Why does your cousin try so hard to pretend to be Korean online? Why does your youth leader assume Filipinas in interracial relationships are gold diggers? Constant, continuous conversations on challenging topics get the ball rolling; harsh interventions are to be deployed at your discretion. Let your friend know that when they’re ready to break up with internalized racism, you’ll be there with a box of tissues at hand and a rant session long overdue.
Consider a post-breakup glow-up project. Find an aspect of your life that you’d actively want to decolonize, and you can be as personal or ambitious as you want. For example, David mentions the rising pushback against skin-whitening products and how morenas and morenos are reclaiming pride in their melanin and natural features. After all, self-love can be a better drug than glutathione or mercury. Try going further and find the things inherent to yourself or your cultural identity that you can be proud of.
“My research has shown that (internalized racism) can manifest when we don’t want it to,” David says in closing. “It seems outside of our control or deeply ingrained in us… But people are becoming more proud of being Filipinos; our country, our values, lands and waters. I really want to express hope, especially with the younger generation who are more aware of the colonial attitude and behavior we have inherited from the previous generations.”
People tell you to find yourself after showing your ex the door. After taking colonialism’s pictures of you to a rage room and destroying them, you have to find out what a positive image of a Filipino could be. You are not ugly, stupid, backward, or ever-serving. What are you? Who do you want to be? What conscious decisions are you making to become a Filipino who is comfortable—if not happy—in being Filipino?