An uncomfortable look at voluntary submission in a world where real alternatives already exist. Introduction Not every poor person is a victim.  Not every slave needs chains.  And not everyone who obeys does so out of ignorance. Sometimes, poverty is a disguised choice - a silent pact with the system: "I won't make noise, and you don't let go of my hand." Even if that hand only keeps you one inch above the abyss. Even if it strips you of all power in exchange for the illusion of stability. We live in a world where the exit is becoming more visible every day. There are tools to regain sovereignty, to stop depending on the State, the bank, or the boss. But still, many people, even seeing the exit, prefer to stay exactly where they are. And that's painful to admit. But it's even more painful to stay silent.

This is managed poverty. Maintained. Prolonged.  But most of all: accepted. And that acceptance becomes a trap when it becomes identity. When "I can't" hides "I don't want to try". When "it's too complicated" really means "I'd rather keep being taken care of." The system trains you to surrender without realizing it: You surrender control over your money. You surrender your own understanding of value. You surrender decisions because "others know better."

The longer you live in that mode of tamed survival, the harder it is to break out. Because the habit of obedience is comforting, even if it humiliates you. Even if it keeps you broke. 2. Economic Stockholm Syndrome Many people understand Bitcoin. They've read, seen, maybe even witnessed others using it.  But they hesitate. Not out of lack of resources, but out of emotional dependency and mental inertia. "I just don't want to complicate things."  "I'm used to using the bank."  "What if I mess up? Scary." The system may mistreat them, but it offers one thing: a sense of order. And that's enough for many to stay. Even those who rely on bank-based welfare payments - despite distrusting the system - often refuse to explore other options. They fear losing that tiny drip of security, even if it means giving up their broader financial freedom. That's how voluntary slavery works: you see the ropes… but you're afraid to let go. 3. Dependence disguised as comfort: it's not just about money Chosen poverty isn't just a financial phenomenon. It's a mindset - and it shows up everywhere: Platforms that pay crumbs but offer "visibility", while demanding algorithmic obedience. Educational systems that infantilize adults, making them feel unprepared to think for themselves. Fintech apps that promise ease but rob you of awareness and control.

It's always the same trade-off: efficiency in exchange for dependency. Bitcoin doesn't play that game. It gives you back control. But it also gives you the weight of that control. And that's why so many reject it. 4. Bitcoin as rupture: not for the obedient Bitcoin is a tool for empowerment - but also a mirror.  One not everyone wants to face. Because it forces you to ask uncomfortable questions: Do I really need a bank? Could I opt out of the tax system… and just don't want to? Maybe it's not that there are no alternatives - maybe I'm just scared to use them?

Bitcoin won't save you if you don't want to be saved.  It won't force you. It won't beg. It simply exists. But to embrace it, you must accept the price of being free. And that price is high: Learning to manage your own keys. Taking full responsibility if you make mistakes. Leaving the system - even if it means discomfort, scrutiny, or social isolation.

Freedom isn't free.  And many people, deep down, don't want to pay for it. 5. The door is open… but no one will push you Maybe the system isn't what's keeping you trapped.  Maybe it's you, clinging to its bars out of fear of the unknown. It's okay if you're not ready yet.  But don't say there's no exit.  Because there is.  And its name is Bitcoin. To walk through that door, though, you'll have to leave many excuses behind.  And that's what not everyone is willing to do. Chosen poverty isn't just a personal tragedy - it's a collective decision that keeps the system alive.  And that's exactly why it's so uncomfortable to talk about it. 6. Questions for those who still hesitate Are you still inside because you can't leave… or because you're afraid to? What part of you still prefers the certainty of the cage over the uncertainty of freedom? Are you really unable to start… or just waiting for someone to give you permission?

If you've read this far, the spark is already lit. The door is half-open. The real question is:  Will you push it?