When Healing Spaces Hurt: The Masks of Spiritual & Commercialized Wellness

Splitting, Seeking, and the Shadow in Spiritual Spaces

I found myself on the receiving end of something I later learned, through therapists I trust, is called splitting—a defense mechanism that protects a person from overwhelming emotion or triggered wounds. It allows someone to think in black-and-white terms — a coping mechanism that divides people or experiences into absolute categories when emotion feels too overwhelming to hold. It’s driven by the need to feel safe and certain when one feels unstable inside.

For the person on the receiving end, this abrupt swing in behavior and instability can feel confusing and disorienting. The person doing the splitting divides others and situations into extremes, unable to hold nuance or complexity. It creates an illusory sense of safety—protection from inner experiences that feel too frightening or chaotic to face.

Splitting is an unconscious way of managing difficult emotions or redirecting blame. Strong, irrational opinions form that label people, places, or experiences as entirely one way or another. This leads to emotional swings and strained relationships. And it makes sense— if we reframe something as unimportant, it dulls the pain being triggered—and that’s the unconscious aim.

In relationships, splitting might look like becoming someone’s “favorite person” for a while, only to be abruptly discarded when a wound resurfaces or they begin to feel threatened. To manage that anxiety, they unconsciously distort reality. This contributes to the idealization followed by devaluation approach of the person, place, or thing.

While we know psychological mechanisms can exist anywhere, I’ve been reflecting on how these same behaviors surface inside commercialized wellness and spiritual spaces; and how that undermines the very premise they’re built upon.

So many people drawn to spiritual communities are seeking.

And I get it, it’s what drew me at first. But on the other side of seeking is suffering: a universal human experience. The Buddhists say life is suffering. The work is to create as much compassion within that suffering.

And so what to we do with our suffering? 

With our pain, with the inherent challenge of being human?

We know that many people hurt others, they project their pain, they create harm in direct and indirect ways. We know what this looks like in its most blatant and violent forms.

There’s harm that takes subtler forms, and I see those masquerading within modern spiritual wellness spaces.

Now, I do want to name that just like I’ve done in the midst of my suffering, to turn towards spaces that espouse healing, inclusivity, and care is a beautiful thing. 

To want to soften the wounds of the heart, and bruises of the spirit, and to simply want to be in community by gathering with others of like-mind, is a beautiful and intuitive attempt, and many times, it’s so helpful. 

I have gathered with so many beautiful people over the years who have help me lay my burdens down and been a space for me to share my gifts.

And it’s a much more noble path than creating direct harm with our unmetabolized pain. 

When Healing Becomes Performance

But what about when the concepts held within these communities get weaponized? 

What about when someone shows signs of unwellness, and therefore, influences others through distorted perception? Distorted thinking becomes shared narratives.

How this is socially expressed is through cliquishness, subtle hierarchies, and spiritual elitism - power dynamics that present as discernment or evolved refinement but often function as control and preservation of one’s perception and place within the hierarchy. Beneath the language of boundaries or spiritual maturity, there can be an undercurrent of exclusion and image management.

These dynamics create a false sense of belonging built on hierarchy rather than genuine connection, rewarding conformity over truth. When left unchecked, they fracture community and replicate the very systems that spiritual and wellness spaces often claim to transcend.

As beautiful as the attempts are to be in a healing space, oftentimes what can happen is that those stepping into leadership positions have a lot of healing still to do, and can bring their distortions with them. 

There is therefore a persona that is created, an identity that one might even convince themselves of, but it’s not congruent with their interior world. 

We may not see this at first, some may never see it at all, but where there is intimacy, vulnerability, wounds are bound to arise. 

And there is nothing right or wrong, good or bad about wounds. They just simply are. We all have them. 

It’s about how our wounds are expressed, and how we hold one another when they surface. The overemphasis on ease in spiritual and wellness spaces can actually become another form of avoidance, a way to bypass the real work of staying present when things get messy or uncomfortable.

If you really want to understand someone’s true nature, notice how they respond when you vulnerably express hurt. Do they meet your feelings with care, dismiss them, or avoid them?

If we make ‘ease’ the measure of connection, we end up avoiding the very discomfort that helps us grow and deepen.

We can hold care for another while holding care for ourselves.

We can set boundaries with others and still meet them with kindness.

But sometimes, that capacity just isn’t there. And that is where our own discernment comes into play. What do we then choose, if our hurt, and therefore, our heart, is not safe in the hands of another?

Not all things are meant to be repaired. Some connections are meant to reveal behavior we’re not willing to accept, and to remind us of the kind of care we truly deserve.

In the case of ‘splitting’, the wounds are too intense for one to hold, so they flip that switch in order to protect themselves. This naturally creates distress around them, but it keeps them feeling in control, and safe. 

Sadly, masks end up being worn in order to preserve one’s image, one’s reputation. 

Warmth becomes something one sells, a brand. 

Not true treatment of those who matter. 

And in that way, I have concern for what I see developing in these spaces. 

For through the lens of discernment and boundaries, cliques and elitism further develop. 

The ego burrows more deeply into beliefs of spiritual superiority, convincing itself it’s real. 

This is a trap. 

And kind people get convinced that it’s true, when it’s not. 

Any place or person that cuts you off without conversation, or poisons the well around you, is showing signs of unwellness.

So hold that with fierce knowing, and compassion for yourself. 

And with clear seeing for what you engage yourself in. 

Find the grounded people. 

Find the steady people. 

If it feels like a clique, or reminiscent of middle school in any way, it’s not for you. 

Find the people who mold clay with the earth, who know how to lean in, who model consistency, and if you find yourself on the receiving end of someone’s sudden shift, it may first break your heart, but consider yourself freed. 

Freed from unhealthy environments. 

Freed from places that aren’t your future. 

Freed from personas that don’t have your best interest at heart. 

Freed from spaces that brand warmth but don’t embody it. 

Freed from places that aren’t deserving of your devotion or your loyalty. 

So what do we move toward?

Toward people whose steadiness isn’t performative but proven, those who can meet life’s small disruptions with grace.

Who give you the transparency and care you deserve.

Toward spaces where humility and humor live beside depth; where people don’t take themselves too seriously, and where humanity is allowed to be messy without becoming a threat.

Toward communities that honor boundaries as mutual respect, not as walls or weapons.

Discernment asks us to move slower. To let trust be earned over time. To resist leading with total openness until someone shows they can hold it with care.

True healing spaces don’t demand allegiance; they cultivate reciprocity.

The goal isn’t to withdraw, but to become wiser about where and with whom we invest our energy. To recognize that integrity isn’t built in a moment, it’s revealed through time, through how people repair, and through the quiet ways they keep showing up.

Seek the ones who are grounded and real. The ones who hold warmth without branding it. The ones who can stay present when things get uncomfortable, and who can laugh, listen, and return to love.

That’s where the real medicine lives.