Why I No Longer Pursue High-Vibe Perfection

I used to think spiritual growth meant becoming an ever-more-polished version of myself. Like many women I know, I spent years chasing what I thought was enlightenment but was actually an exhausting performance of positivity and high-vibe only. I filled journals with affirmations, curated a perfectly peaceful Instagram feed, and spoke in careful sound bites about “living my highest truth.”

The irony wasn’t lost on me – trying so hard to transcend the human experience that I’d created a whole new layer of perfectionism to maintain. My spiritual practice had become yet another way to prove my worth through achievement.

It took a long, slow unraveling in my late forties to crack open that carefully constructed facade. What began as subtle workplace tensions escalated into five years of systematic harassment that slowly eroded my confidence and eventually forced me into medical leave. During this same period, my marriage of Eighteen years began dissolving, not in dramatic confrontations but in the quiet accumulation of distances neither of us knew how to bridge. When I finally had to leave our family home, spending two years in rented housing while trying to rebuild some sense of stability, my body began speaking in ways I could no longer ignore.

The old trauma I’d so carefully packed away started surfacing in waves of anxiety and PTSD symptoms that no amount of positive thinking could contain. I remember sitting on the floor of my borrowed apartment one morning, surrounded by moving boxes and half-drunk tea gone cold, when the truth finally landed: All my years of spiritual bypassing, of trying to rise above my humanity through carefully curated positivity, had left me profoundly unprepared for this descent into the basement of my being. The universe wasn’t asking me to transcend these experiences – it was asking me to move through them, to finally feel what I’d spent decades trying to outrun.

This isn’t a story about wallowing in darkness or rejecting joy. It’s about finding a more honest way to hold both the light and shadow of being human. It’s about trading spiritual perfectionism for something more real and sustainable. And it’s about giving ourselves permission to show up exactly as we are – messy, complex, and wonderfully ordinary.

The Seduction of Spiritual Bypass

Looking back, I can see how seductive spiritual bypass can be, especially for women who’ve spent decades being told to be smaller, nicer, more accommodating. The promise of transcending all that through enlightenment is powerful. If we can just meditate enough, journal enough, align our chakras enough – maybe then we’ll finally be immune to pain and criticism. Maybe then we’ll be worthy.

But here’s what I’ve learned: True spiritual growth isn’t about rising above our humanity. It’s about sinking deeper into it, with awareness and compassion. It’s about developing the capacity to stay present with whatever arises, whether that’s grief or joy, anger or peace.

When we try to maintain constant high vibes, we inadvertently create splits within ourselves. The parts of us that feel angry, scared, or overwhelmed get pushed into shadow, where they tend to grow more powerful and problematic. We end up spending enormous energy trying to suppress or transcend these “lower” emotions, rather than learning from them.

The Cost of Spiritual Performance

This performance takes a particular toll on women in midlife. Just when we’re naturally being called to examine our lives more deeply, to question inherited beliefs and reconnect with our authentic voices, the pressure to maintain spiritual appearances can keep us stuck in superficial waters.

I see it in my circles – brilliant, accomplished women exhausted from trying to manifest abundance while ignoring very real financial concerns. Women forcing themselves to “find the blessing” in toxic relationships rather than acknowledging their anger and setting boundaries. Women feeling shame because they can’t maintain perfect meditation practices while navigating perimenopause, career transitions, and caring for aging parents.

We’ve replaced one impossible standard (eternal youth and beauty) with another (perpetual peace and enlightenment). The packaging is different, but the underlying message is the same: You’re not enough as you are.

Finding a More Authentic Path

woman on a trail in a forest. high-vibe — Photo by George Frewat on Pexels.com

My own unraveling led me to search for a different way – one that honors the full spectrum of human experience without trying to fix or transcend it. I started studying with teachers who weren’t afraid of shadow work, who spoke about spirituality with nuance and humanity rather than absolutist claims.

I learned that true resilience comes not from avoiding difficult emotions, but from building our capacity to be with them. That authentic power grows from accepting our limitations and vulnerabilities, not denying them. That real transformation often happens in the messy middle spaces – not in some imagined state of permanent enlightenment.

Most importantly, I learned to trust the wisdom of my own lived experience. To value the quiet knowing that emerges from sitting with uncertainty over the loud proclamations of those selling spiritual certainty.

What Real Practice Looks Like Now

These days, my spiritual practice looks very different. Instead of trying to transcend my humanity, I’m learning to inhabit it more fully. Some elements of this shifted approach include:

Emotional Literacy: Rather than immediately trying to shift “negative” emotions into positive ones, I’ve developed a more nuanced emotional vocabulary. I can distinguish between different types of anger (protective anger versus reactive anger, for instance) and appreciate how each emotion carries important information.

Embodied Awareness: Instead of trying to float above my physical experience in pursuit of higher consciousness, I’m learning to listen to my body’s wisdom. This means paying attention to sensation, respecting my energy limits, and honoring my need for rest without shame.

Authentic Expression: I’m less concerned with speaking in spiritual platitudes and more interested in finding honest words for my experience. Sometimes this means saying “I don’t know” or “This really hurts” instead of reaching for a ready-made spiritual explanation.

Community Over Performance: Rather than trying to be an example of permanent peace, I’m building relationships where we can share our real struggles and victories, our doubts and discoveries. There’s such relief in dropping the spiritual facade and being met with understanding rather than judgment.

The Sacred in the Ordinary

One of the most surprising discoveries of this journey has been finding how much more accessible the sacred feels when I stop trying to force it into existence. Those moments of genuine connection with the divine often come not in perfect meditation sessions, but in ordinary moments:

Watching the dawn light slowly fill my kitchen while making morning tea
Feeling the surge of love when my adult child unexpectedly hugs me
Sitting with a friend in comfortable silence after she’s shared something difficult
Noticing how my garden continues to grow despite my imperfect tending

These moments aren’t Instagram-worthy. They don’t fit into neat spiritual packages or sell well on social media. But they carry a depth and authenticity that all my previous spiritual performing never achieved.

Permission to Be Human

photo of woman standing on sunflower field. high-vibe

If there’s one message I wish I could share with every woman feeling exhausted by spiritual perfectionism, it’s this: You don’t have to transcend your humanity to be worthy of love or connection with the divine. Your messy, complex, sometimes struggling self is exactly what’s needed in this world.

Your anger might be pointing toward necessary changes. Your grief might be carving out space for deeper compassion. Your confusion might be leading you toward more authentic truth. Even your resistance to spiritual practice might be protecting you from teachings that aren’t right for you right now.

What if instead of trying to fix or perfect ourselves, we directed that energy toward knowing and accepting ourselves more fully? What if instead of chasing constant high vibes, we developed our capacity to be present with whatever life brings?

This doesn’t mean abandoning all spiritual practice or rejecting the pursuit of growth. Rather, it means approaching our spiritual lives with more honesty and less performance. It means making room for questions alongside answers, for uncertainty alongside faith, for humanity alongside divinity.

Moving Forward with Gentleness

The path I’m describing isn’t as neat or marketable as “high-vibe living.” It requires us to develop tolerance for ambiguity and to find our own way rather than following prescribed formulas. But it offers something more sustainable and ultimately more nourishing – a way of being that doesn’t require us to split ourselves into acceptable and unacceptable parts.

As we move into this more authentic relationship with spirituality, we might find that:

Our prayers become more honest, even if less polished
Our meditation practice becomes more sustainable, even if less “perfect”
Our relationships become more genuine, even if more complex
Our connection to the divine becomes more direct, even if less dramatic

A Gentle Invitation

If you’re feeling tired of spiritual performance and longing for a more authentic path, I invite you to spend some time with these questions. Consider journaling about them, not to find perfect answers, but to explore your own truth:

-What would my spiritual practice look like if I removed all pressure to achieve or prove anything?
-What parts of myself have I been trying to transcend that might actually need my attention and care?
-Where do I naturally feel most connected to something larger than myself?

Take your time with these questions. Let your answers be messy and incomplete. Trust that your own lived experience – with all its complications and contradictions – is precisely where your deepest wisdom lives.

Remember: The goal isn’t to arrive at some perfect state of enlightenment. It’s to show up for this human journey with increasing awareness, honesty, and compassion – not just for others, but for ourselves as well.