Nobody warns you about this part. You did everything they asked. You sat at their feet, you drank the Kool-Aid, you memorized the Sanskrit chants. You journaled until your fingers cramped, you processed your trauma in front of strangers, you invested thousands of dollars you didn’t have into workshops that promised enlightenment. You trusted them. You believed in their goodness, in their connection to the Divine, in the sacredness of the space they claimed to hold. You contorted your own soul into the shape they said was holy. And when you started to feel that quiet, sickening unease in the pit of your stomach, you told yourself it was your own resistance. When their teachings started to contradict themselves, you assumed you just weren’t smart enough to get it. When you saw them treat others with cruelty and then call it a “catalyst for their growth,” you swallowed your own rising bile and nodded along, desperate to be seen as one of the good ones, one of the evolved ones. Then came the moment you dared to question. Maybe you brought up a financial inconsistency. Maybe you set a boundary around your time or your energy. Maybe you simply said,