Burned by a Healer, Saved by Spirit
Finding spirit—and keeping it alive—even after betrayal in the name of healing.
I Wasn’t Raised with Faith—But It Found Me
My spiritual journey began in 2011, in the midst of a divorce with two young boys at home. I had no spiritual practice, nor did I grow up with any kind of religion. But when my life cracked open, I found myself desperately seeking something bigger than my constant anxiety, my fears, and the panic attacks that had started to become debilitating daily visitors.
In the past, I had stretched my swollen body in a handful of prenatal yoga classes—but to be honest, yoga frustrated me. It was too slow. I preferred to run 5-10 miles or try to kill myself in high-energy workouts like Billy Blanks Taebo to push away the stress. Then one night, a friend invited me to a vinyasa yoga class. I hesitated but said, “What the hell—let’s do a night yoga class,” hoping we’d go out for a glass of wine afterward.
We entered the room, and I had to blink to adjust my eyes to the dim light that flickered with candle flames. The space was filled with sparkling, strong bodies moving to new-age music. The hour ended—and something happened inside of me. I walked out of that class feeling lighter, calmer, more grounded than I had in a long time—maybe ever. I didn’t even want that glass of wine! That night, I committed to 30 days of yoga. And that turned into something much bigger.
I began exploring all kinds of practices: yoga, breathwork, meditation, journaling, spiritual reading (super juju magic authors like Drunvalo Melchizedek(google him)), and participating in indigenous ceremonies. I was high on life. It was as if I had finally found what had been missing—a connection to something greater. I was receiving signs. I was in alignment. I was in love with the universe. Bouncing around like Tinkerbell.
Beware of the Spiritual Vampires
Fast forward to 2014. I took a girls' trip to Tulum, Mexico, and met a local nature guide. I was drawn to his passion for the environment—at the time, I was deep into my sustainability learning chapter—and he spoke of becoming a shaman. I truly believed the universe had sent him to me for a reason.
That relationship became a five-year-long nightmare.
We started an eco-friendly tour business together, and I entered into a romantic relationship with him. It wasn’t until I stumbled upon a book about narcissistic personality disorder that the fog began to lift. Every trait described this man: a grandiose sense of self-importance, a belief that he was uniquely special, a constant need for admiration, entitlement, exploitation. I really believed I was the problem! But he was gaslighting me, stealing money from our company, cheating—one of his lovers even showed up at my house for a yoga class to tell me how she had been “f#cking him the whole time we dated.” 🤯 The audacity!
I was physically ill during the final year of the (personal and professional) relationship. Stomach pain every day. I lost too much weight and too much money. I was drained. Depleted. And spiritually dead.
Lost Faith
When I finally ended the relationship, I felt completely disconnected from spirit. I was empty. The wannabe shaman had used the language of healing and spirituality to manipulate others—especially women. He looked the part, said all the right things, but his actions were anything but healing. I was angry—not just at him, but at the universe. Why would Spirit send me a fake healer disguised as a gift? I began to question everything. Was spirituality just a fantasy? A way to con people?
I spiraled.
Coming Back to Myself
Then COVID happened. In the stillness, I began to return to the spiritual and mental wellness practices I had once loved—not because I’m a recovering empath who tends to overextend, but I wanted to feel whole and finally once and for all enough. I realized the narcissists kept finding me because I was stuck in the pattern of “helping” others to feel worthy. That had to stop.
So I began meditating again. Doing my breathwork, ceremonies and journaling. Moving my body through yoga every damn day. Slowly, I started to trust Spirit again.
I found authentic healers—because now I knew what the fake ones looked like.
Not all who wear the robes of healing are there to help. True spiritual teachers empower you to trust yourself—not become dependent on them or a devote follower to them.
It’s a Forever Practice
What I’ve learned over the past 15 years is that life doesn’t stop throwing challenges at us.
Healing isn’t linear—it’s cyclical. It always begins within, even when you’re forced to start over or question Spirit entirely.
Spirituality isn’t a destination—it’s a lifelong practice. And I choose to keep showing up, growing into my fullest potential for as long as I’m here.
Showing up for me means:
- Physical movement
- Healthy food
- Meditation
- Breathwork
- Yoga
- Journaling
- Sacred ceremony
- Time in nature
- Laughter and play with friends
- Travel with intention
“Sometimes the smallest step in the right direction ends up being the biggest step of your life. Tiptoe if you must, but take the step.” — Naeem Callaway
In the end, my spiritual vampire left me with more than just scars—he left me with lessons I couldn’t have learned any other way. 😅 I can almost be grateful… because without that chapter, I wouldn’t have reclaimed my own power, or built the grounded, authentic connection to Spirit that I have today. Turns out, even the darkest teachers can show us the way back to our own light.
