Dreamspeak

Dreamspeak

Counterfeit Belonging

When conformity masquerades as meaning

Toko-pa Turner's avatar
Toko-pa Turner
Dec 30, 2025
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When a cluster of dreamers come to me with dreams on a similar theme, I pay attention. The synchronicity of such a convergence means that there’s a larger pattern in the ecopsyche that is ready to be seen. Lately, that pattern has been emerging in dreams of confinement. But specifically, of an ideological sort—being trapped in a religious or cultic institution—and searching for an escape.

The setting changes from dream to dream; sometimes the person is trapped in a religious cult, a political prison camp, or a church or temple that won’t let them leave—but the mechanism behind each is the same. There is a powerful group running the institution who is demanding compliance, and the dreamer is disaffected, sometime plotting their rebellion.

Though they are from very different walks of life, what these dreamers have in common is that they are actively engaged in the difficult work of individuation. Individuation is the word Jung used to describe the process of self-realization, in which a person becomes conscious of their shadow and divests themselves from the expectations of others in order to live in accordance with their own soul.

They are learning to face the ways in which they have been living within the confines of social expectations. And plotting how to escape, so they can live with greater creativity, by the soul’s orientation, so they can feel more wholly themselves.

Illustration by Olly Costello from Belonging: Remembering Ourselves Home

It’s fascinating that none of these dreamers observe religious traditions, so it makes the religious imagery in their dreams all the more striking. If these dreams aren’t objectively about religion, how can we understand this trend symbolically? How do we explain that force that is compromising their innermost sense of freedom?

In dreamwork, we try to look beneath the surface image to understand what qualities it possesses, and how we (the dreamer) experience those qualities intellectually, emotionally, and somatically.

In each of these dreams, the dreamer described a ruling power. A leader or group of people who enforced adherence to a system—what we might call true believers. There is also a hard boundary between inside and outside, like a locked door, a high fence, or armed guards who won’t let anyone leave without consequence. And in each of these dream settings, there is a culture of prohibition. A rigidity that looks like enforced speech, certain ways of dressing, or eating, and the implicit understanding that to deviate is forbidden. One is expected to sacrifice their individuality for the group identity.

In Belonging, I named these places of false belonging: spaces that grant us conditional membership, for only as long as we comply with the expected norms of the group. They have hidden contracts in place that require us to cut parts of ourselves off to fit in, or face the very real consequences for disobedience.

The particular beliefs of the group might be religious, political, cultural, or moral, but the structure is always the same: belonging is conditional, and dissent is punished.

Most of us can look back on our lives and remember a time when we were drawn to such a group. Maybe you’ve even liberated yourself from false belonging. But in today’s digital landscape, “the group” may not even have four walls or an official name. Only a shifting, meme-and-trend sense of what belongs and what does not. Its expectations are nonetheless clear, and you intuitively know what signals you must display to remain acceptable. These boundaries between what is allowed and what is rejected are symbolised by the guards, fences and locked doors that appear in these dreams.

But the longing to belong is written into our bones. Devotion to a shared belief, idea, or cause is part of what makes us human—it offers us safety, meaning, and a sense of self within a shared context. But so too is exile part of human development. I sometimes refer to exile as the dark sister of belonging, as a way to dignify its kinship and unseen value.

Even the healthiest forms of belonging, like a good marriage or engaging vocation, require breaks, periods of separation and independence, in order to mature into their greater capacities. And often those breaks into growth are painful.

I call these initiations by exile—moments in life when our needs or values are at odds with the group, and we must break into new ground on our own.

Illustration “False Belonging” by Olly Costello from Belonging: Remembering Ourselves Home

As much as we want to belong, we are equally driven to individuate. Growth requires that we break through our limitations into our own authority, autonomy and originality. But it takes tremendous bravery. When we come up against one of those “acceptability boundaries,” we have to face the difficult dilemma of which consequences are worse: compromising ourselves to stay under the radar, or following what we know to be right, even if it means standing alone.

Maybe you see corruption within the system, maybe there’s a concession you are not willing to make, maybe even something foundational to your identity is being rejected by the group. Whatever form it takes, false belonging always has a threshold that you know you have to cross in order to grow. And if you don’t, you feel how compromising yourself can be harmful.

You may reject these calls to growth, because you’ve witnessed what happens to others who dissent, and you internalise the fear of also being cast out. Why does disagreement feel so frightening? What do we risk losing when we stop saying what we actually see? What kind of culture are we building when we expect everyone around us to think and speak as we do?

The religious aspect of these dreams is especially fascinating, given the dreamers are not struggling with religion itself, yet psyche perceives it as such. Symbolically speaking, religion in dreams can represent the attitudes and morals you hold too rigidly. Or ideas of right or wrong that have been imposed upon you culturally—like rules of conduct or moral frameworks.

Those on the “inside” are deemed good, but they are also burdened with an unattainable goal of purity that keeps them in a constant state of self-surveillance. Outsiders, upon whom the whole framework depends, are seen as unenlightened and dangerous to the group, but the truth is that they possess the freedom of being unbeholden.

We don’t usually think of religiosity in secular terms, but it certainly exists. It may take the form of a political ideology, a certain lifestyle, or even philosophy, but it carries the same fervour of devotion to a cause or idea that has a way of eclipsing our identity.

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