De-Selfing: When Spiritual Awakening Becomes Gaslighting

In the world of modern spirituality, a particular philosophy has gained immense popularity—one that promises inner peace, detachment from suffering, and a life free from emotional turmoil. Thinkers like Eckhart Tolle and Michael Singer have written extensively about this approach, urging people to free themselves from the grip of their minds. Their core message? Your thoughts create your suffering. Detachment is the key to freedom. Let go, and nothing will truly harm you.

I read those books. At first glance, this perspective is alluring. Who wouldn’t want to be free from pain? Who wouldn’t want to move through life untouched by hardship, floating above the chaos? The promise of spiritual liberation has drawn in millions, turning books like The Power of Now and The Untethered Soul into bestsellers.

And I understand why. There’s wisdom in being mindful of your thoughts, in recognising that suffering can be amplified by the stories we tell ourselves. But as I delved deeper into this world, I felt a lot of anger rising in me considering these concepts. The more I read, the more I noticed a disturbing pattern—one that subtly dismissed real human experiences and, at times, gaslit people into believing that their suffering wasn’t valid.

Gaslighting is a form of psychological manipulation that makes you doubt your own reality. When spiritual teachings push the narrative that suffering is nothing more than a mental illusion, they subtly invalidate your own lived experiences.

The Mindset

While different authors have their own takes, much of this philosophy boils down to a few key ideas:

Your emotions are the problem. If you’re feeling hurt, angry, or anxious, it’s because you’re too attached. Enlightenment, they say, comes from letting go of these feelings.

Reality is just a projection of your beliefs. If something painful happens to you, it’s not the world’s fault—it’s your fault for believing in suffering.

Nothing really matters. The world is an illusion. Injustice, heartbreak, loss—none of it has inherent meaning unless you choose to give it meaning.

These ideas might sound peaceful, even liberating. But as I read the books by both authors above, and there may be others that are not as popular, I felt a deep anger rising inside of me. Every time. Both books felt almost like brainwashing, as if they were invalidating life itself. You’re made to question whether your pain is real—or worse, whether you’re somehow to blame for creating it. It’s a dangerous form of manipulation that distorts your perception of what’s real and true in your life.

When Detachment Becomes Disconnection

I’ve gone into those spheres of spiritual “awakening”—that place where you’re told your emotions are your problems. Where you’re told that you are creating the experiences you make. The place where people constantly gaslight you into thinking you have it all wrong. This isn’t happening to you. Or if it is, it’s only because your mind is confirming something you inherently believe.

What a load of bollocks.

The more I immersed myself in these teachings, the more I saw the cost of this mindset. If you truly believe suffering is just an illusion, then why bother feeling anything deeply? Why engage with the struggles of others? Why fight for change?

And this is where what I loosely termed ‘de-selfing’, for all its promises of peace, ultimately falls apart. Because detaching from suffering often means detaching from life itself. It turns “letting go” into an excuse to avoid responsibility, to disengage from the world, to care less—not just about your own pain, but about the pain of others.

Spiritual detachment, when taken too far, becomes emotional avoidance—a form of spiritual bypassing, where people use spiritual ideas to sidestep real emotions and struggles rather than working through them. And emotional avoidance isn’t wisdom—it’s disconnection. It’s trauma: when the body and the mind get more and more detached.

It’s one thing to be mindful of your emotions, but it’s another to dismiss them entirely or invalidate them. And when this mindset is pushed to the extreme, it can make people feel numb, indifferent, or even selfish in the name of ‘higher consciousness.

Even if these authors aren't explicitly suggesting such an extreme view, which I find hard to tell, I’ve noticed on social media that some people interpret their philosophies this way. One of the most troubling views I’ve come across is when people invalidate others’ abuse stories by claiming that if we can't forgive perpetrators, it’s a sign of being too attached. This is vicious and harmful. It creates more damage, not only to individuals, but to society as a whole.

Choosing a Different Kind of Wisdom

I don’t want a life where nothing truly moves me. I don’t want to bypass reality in pursuit of some illusion of enlightenment. Because real wisdom isn’t about rising above life—it’s about fully living it. It’s about recognising that yes, suffering exists, but so does love. So does connection. So does the raw, messy beauty of being human.

Unlike the detachment-focused approach of de-selfing, there are thinkers and teachers who embrace suffering as an inevitable, even meaningful, part of life—offering tools to work through it rather than escape from it. Pema Chödrön, in When Things Fall Apart, doesn’t sugarcoat pain or offer quick fixes. Instead, she teaches the power of sitting with discomfort, allowing it to transform rather than consume us. Tara Brach’s Radical Acceptance takes a similar stance, blending mindfulness with self-compassion in a way that acknowledges struggle without bypassing it. Interestingly, it’s mostly women writing these books—offering a perspective that doesn’t push detachment, but instead encourages a deeper, more compassionate engagement with life.

But wisdom doesn’t just come from books. Some of the greatest insights about suffering—and how to move through it—come from people who have lived in the public eye, who have fallen hard and come out the other side. Musicians who lost everything to addiction and clawed their way back. Actors who faced public disgrace and rebuilt their lives. Athletes who hit rock bottom and found a way to stand again.

And yet, it’s not always the well-known names, the ones who are celebrated on grand stages, who embody this wisdom. Sometimes, it's the quiet, steadfast individuals who slip under the radar, the ones who’ve quietly built something that matters. Like the young person who grew up in a broken home, surrounded by hardship, and still managed to pull themselves out, create a career that not only sustains them but contributes something meaningful to the world. They're the ones preparing your food in your favorite restaurant, the mechanic who keeps your car running, the nurse who shows up every day with compassion, quietly making a difference in the world around us. Their journey wasn’t easy, but it was their willingness to face their struggles, learn from them, and forge a path forward that speaks to a deeper kind of wisdom.

These are the unsung heroes who don’t need the world to witness their journey—they live it with integrity and purpose. They may not have written books or held grand speeches, but they’ve cultivated something far more enduring: resilience, humility, and a deep understanding of what it means to be truly alive. Their wisdom is the type that should inspire us, not by escaping life, but by fully participating in it. These are the people we already see, already talk about, already look up to—not for their perfection, but for their survival. They don’t preach detachment; they talk about resilience. They show that suffering isn’t something to float above—it’s something to go through. And they remind us that even in the worst of times, we are capable of coming back stronger.

I choose to engage. I choose to feel. I choose to care.

And if that makes me less “awakened,” then so be it.

References

Tolle, E. (1997). The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment. New World Library.

Singer, M. (2007). The Untethered Soul: The Journey Beyond Yourself. New Harbinger Publications.

Chödrön, P. (1997). When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times. Shambhala.

Brach, T. (2003). Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life With the Heart of a Buddha. Bantam.