I thought it was me.
All those years I thought it was me, that I wasn’t—smart enough, pretty enough, clever enough, good enough—you know, loveable. Something didn’t add up, but I didn’t know what it was, so the only answer left to me was to try harder. I carefully picked out clothes and counted every crumb I ate. I watched what I said and who I said it to, making sure no one ever saw my darkness. I censored my intelligence, making certain that I didn’t appear too smart or too stupid … and doing so, I proved to myself over and over again, that I was right. I wasn’t enough.
I was a master at gaslighting myself, turning away from the brilliance hiding within and replacing it with others’ versions of who I was. Looking back from where I stand now, I truly had no reason to be surprised— or angry—that I tolerated gaslighting by others: bosses, boyfriends, a husband, a child.
I spent much of this life unaware of how structures I didn’t control formed and reformed me: the whims of power in society; its current mythology; the teachings of religions designed to soothe the anxiety they created and that converted their beliefs into my actions; and my interactions with other unaware programmed beings.
I didn’t see how the structures and their rigid mores are built to create, reinforce, and then solidify life’s faultless isness into unacceptable and then unwanted aspects of ourselves, how they add meaning that isn’t here and take away any true meaning that actually is; how rather than celebrating life as it is, they fashion this incredible aliveness into self-improvement projects designed with stopgaps to ensure we fall short of any finish line. It’s an endless cycle whose purpose (if there is one) would be to keep us quiet while consuming and forever uncertain of our place in this world.
When you’ve been convinced that you are not enough, there is no path you can take to enoughness. With the inbuilt sense of rejection and its guaranteed outcome—anxiety that is integral to the lack of safety—the mind steps into its role of protector. That unintended capitulation charges the mind with maintaining the tension and initiates the game of ‘Fix the Human’. It’s an impossible game. The target will always move as you close in. After all, you’ve accepted that you aren’t enough, so life generously gives you what you say is true.
At this point in the story, life seems to be set up to maintain and sustain the rigged spin instead of pointing the way out.
A seemingly insatiable need for approval (even when it looks like rejection of social norms); the unconquerable quest for something else, something better, something not this; the dislike, no that’s too soft a word, a deep loathing of our bodies; a level of self-judgment that appears to know no end; a sick sense of unworthiness that is a constant reminder of unfulfilled desires; and the stealthily integrated need to hide it all—all of these demons— are nothing more than control mechanisms, ways to assure that who we really are doesn’t break free from the illusion of unworthiness.
Marianne Williamson was right: It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
I didn’t see what this primarily patriarchal, materially engrossed, power authority duplicitously inserted into my storyline, into the storylines of us all. Rather than seeing the structures bred into the set-up, I simply took the difficulties—condescension, abuse, glass ceilings, sexual harassment, discrimination, perpetual obstructions—as my burden to bear (after all, I thought it was me) and did my best, sometimes nearly killing myself in the process.
For a structure set on control, making me think it was me was pure genius.
Like most, I was programmed early and programmed hard. Most of my family’s social interactions were based around church activities. That was the norm in my youth. It wasn’t until years later that I saw just how much that shaped me. It was the reason it took so long to walk away from my husband, even though staying was hurting me and my boys. That brainwashing—we are indoctrinated on many levels—was the reason I froze instead of standing up for myself. My operating system was deficient in the language that could question whether it really was me.
The harm was embedded before I realized that my concept of my place in the world was nothing I would willingly choose. In the world of fundamental Christianity, I was a sinner in need of redemption, facing hell if I didn’t buckle up and fly straight, unworthy in my own right. If I was worthy, God wouldn’t condemn me before my first cry.
Registering the harm, seeing it for what it is, doesn’t instantly undo the damage. It sets the undoing into motion. It seems to take years for all the subconscious overlays to percolate into awareness. I think that’s grace. I can’t imagine all of it coming at me like a firehose.
Looking back I can see the steps, the beliefs that piled on, the reasons I did what I did and couldn’t do otherwise … until life remade me so I could, until the hidden was revealed, until seeing what’s real became more important than hiding from my light.
When I stepped back into religion it had a new name—spirituality. It was an upgraded opportunity for salvation—not what the gurus called it—but what I now see as ‘the escape from what is’. My eyes were blinded by innocent intentions and the desire to transform the pain. I didn’t recognize what was actually on offer.
Religion and spirituality are two sides of the same coin. They offer the same, albeit different, remedy. They offer relief from the pain, a balm for the brokenness—temporarily, rarely permanently. Both have the same basic flaw. Inherently, they preach that who we are, as we are, is not enough, reinforcing unworthiness, rather than revealing enoughness.
When the prime directive is enlightenment, ideas like ‘you are whole and complete’ don’t really land when it is not your lived reality. Underneath the pretty words, there is always a current of ‘you have work to do’. Since I didn’t believe I was awake, I was not yet worthy.
There were so many new lessons to learn on top of the previous lessons I was still unlearning. Had I realized that adding new beliefs the pile would only be more to undo later, perhaps I would have stopped. I doubt it though.
I had lessons to learn and unlearn, very human lessons that when learned allowed life to deepen its touch. I was still sitting in the back row at the retreat center with my arms across my chest. Thankfully, my twisted skepticism was short-lived, because I was missing the basics of the natural human state, and seeing and remedying that is a requisite part of the magical mystery tour.
These lessons broke the spell of the initial programming. They laid the groundwork for higher truths. Until I reclaimed my humanity, my potential lay in front of me like a swamp, not unlike the Dead Marshes in ‘Lord of the Rings’.
*’No’ is not a forbidden word. ‘No’ is ‘yes’ to something else, to something that feels better in my heart and soul. Following my heart is always right even when someone else sees it as wrong.
*I do not need to justify or explain ‘no’. It stands on its own, just like me.
*I was born with autonomy. I am a sovereign being. No one belongs to another. It isn’t my job to take responsibility for another and dismiss my own needs. Needs are precious pointers, not something to overcome or suppress.
*I do not need to prove my worth. I am worthy simply by being alive. I am not a lesser being. I am not less deserving of all that life offers.
*My feelings matter. They aren’t proof that I am too sensitive. The are proof that I am alive, that I care, that I am human.
*I do not need to sweeten my words and make them more palatable. It is okay to ask for what I want or directly, openly, and unashamedly share an opinion that hasn’t been sanitized. Once I show up authentically, and replace the pretense with words reflective of my reality, it is liberating.
*Just because my opinion or preferences conflict with how someone else sees the world, it doesn’t mean I am wrong, stupid, uninformed, or intentionally trying to cause harm.
I learned to trust myself, to honor my experience. I began to question everything and inquired into the structures that control life, that manifest as reality. During that exploration, I recognized that no matter what I did, even learning these lessons, I still wouldn’t be enough, only the blame was gone. It wasn’t me. It was life-lifeing.
It was never me. I’m still here, but not in the same way. I was never in charge. Life is, and it always knows the way.
Amaya Gayle is the author of 6 books, the latest Actuality; infinity at play, published by New Saram Press. https://amzn.to/3Rd4CTY
Image: WordPress AI by Amaya Gayle
Amaya Gayle 
And then we looked for a spiritual teacher. LOL!
The Spiritual Teacher-Student Relationship is a Tricky Business.
“The true guru will never humiliate you, nor will he estrange you from yourself. He will constantly bring you back to the fact of your inherent perfection and encourage you to seek within. He knows you need nothing, not even him, and is never tired of reminding you. But the self-appointed guru is more concerned with himself than with his disciples.” –Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj (1897-1981), I Am That, Dialogue 83, Dec. 18, 1971
Spiritual manipulation comes in many subtle forms. It may take years for a student to wake up to the uncomfortable fact that his/her spiritual teacher is not as awakened, or enlightened, as they claim and they may need the student more than the student needs them.
A student can be lectured on the “I AM THAT” as Absolute, Infinite, Boundless, Awakened Awareness, however, in the everyday experiential or phenomenal life of relativity and multiplicity, there are certain necessary and healthy distinctions to be made between say, “appropriately helpful” and “inappropriately harmful” in the teaching methodology. Put another way, it is important to recognize that the perfectly manifesting, unfolding play of the Divine within (where all souls eventually awaken to their God-Nature), there are meanwhile, matters of right and wrong, justice and injustice, legal and illegal, on the earth-side of life.
Spiritual awakening does not free one from all rules of conventional morality and earthly laws.
Bottom line, how is your spiritual teacher behaving and relating to others? In the course of their interactions are they living up to their teaching of embodied love? How they treat their partner/spouse is a clue. It’s important to keep your observational and critical thinking skills intact. Don’t check your brain or your gut feelings at the door. You have a brain and thinking skills for a reason. You must learn to discern functional from dysfunctional forms of spiritual leadership when in close relationship with a spiritual teacher. Maybe crazy wisdom “is” just plain crazy.
Does the teacher present themselves as the ultimate realization of God in a human body? How would you question their authenticity?
· Does the teacher need to control all those around them?
· Does the teacher use language in a way that is unique and hard to follow.
· Are you reliant on the teacher to validate your perceptions?
· Is the teacher arrogant, thinking they know all the answers; listening only to God while dismissing your knowledge or truth?
· Does the teacher keep changing their name, getting “holier” with each iteration of their awakening?
· Is the teacher uncomfortable with their humanness.
· Does the teacher say they only want advanced students? No beginners!
· Is the teacher a perfectionist, never allowing students to use their own talents?
Does the teacher isolate themselves from the rest of society? Do they appear to have made an overwhelming commitment to the neurotic mechanism — common to those who suffer from a deep-seated self-loathing of their humanity by acting “above it all” and condescending. Such behavior is an indication of controlling relationship by making others feel unevolved, unworthy, and even guilty.
Purported ‘One-ness’ is claimed for the ornamental facade of being fully awakened. An unrealized teacher has an agenda of keeping everyone locked at some lower rung (stage of attainment) on the awakening ladder. Genuine compassion goes out the window as the teacher refuses to meet the student in situations with uncomfortable emotions, such as anger, too beneath them to bother.
What can a student say when confronted with such conceit? Well, first of all they can point out the teacher vs student duality– the claim of the teacher’s superiority over imaginary “others”. Secondly, one can point out that the teacher has adopted ‘spiritualspeak’ to confuse and intimidate the mind of the listener.
While the teacher may say, ‘There is no “separate student”, at the same time, there’s interminable analysis and critique of this non-existent student! Unlike Ramana Maharshi, who made it obvious that ‘no separate person’ exists, the conflicted teaching posits and reinforces the existence of this separate “unevolved” student, at every turn, by critiquing their level of advancement. Awakening is never likely to occur if the student is continually defined, (even after decades of service and surrender), as failing to measure up to the ever-elusive standards of the teacher.
Ongoing approval-disapproval is one of the hallmarks of a dysfunctional teacher/student relationship. Every action, and every thought, of every student is continuously vulnerable to judgment through the internalization of the teacher’s evaluations. Thus, no awakening is ever achieved.
A narcissistic teacher is generally uncomfortable with solitude. They need constant company and feel unappreciated without their students. The proof and justification of their self-love is not in solitude; it is in seeking the companionship and attention of the student. The teacher becomes ever-more isolated and insulated from the rest of society, seeking a limited and controlled environment, where he/she will feel unconditionally loved by their students. The teacher may be impressive and the teaching may be wonderful, but does the teacher have friends and a social life in addition to the students? Probably not! Everyone is a student and one never graduates. The teacher needs students for validation of their attainment.
A narcissist-teacher’s greatest fear is that he is not acknowledged, or that he/she might not be remembered via a legacy. They look for unquestioning loyalty and practice well-worn psychological techniques to control the minds of the students. Anyone who questions the teacher’s behavior or methods, is immediately sidelined as wrong in front of the rest of the group, *a very well-studied mind-control technique. *
The perfectionist-teacher micro-manages virtually every detail of the programs and literature. They communicate a patronizing sense of their own superiority in all matters, spiritual, psychological, intellectual, etc., you name it. They are always right, smarter, and more realized than the student in just about every department!
By the standards of traditional society, a teacher claiming to be exclusively God-realized, who has influenced students and convinced them that he/she is now God, (delusions of having arrived at a higher level of being), may be viewed as pathological. People outside the walls of the retreat center may say, ‘You think you are the most God-realized human being on earth, but your questionable behaviors don’t add up’. By most social standards, some of your actions appear to be crazy.
What would it be like to have no peers, to be beyond correction, to admonish others but never to be admonished oneself, and conclude that one could only remain sane if one were “fully awakened”. Anyone less than a “perfect master” would then be certain to end up a little crazy. Asserting a claim to be an incarnation of God on earth, and then not living up to that claim in one’s behavior, would certainly disqualify a teacher from being legitimate.
Sacred traditions understand that the distinctions people make between spheres of action–physical vs. mental, spiritual vs. material, academic vs. personal, intellectual vs. moral, etc.–are both arbitrary and inappropriate when considering spiritual teachers. As these teachers usually claim, there is no spiritual world divorced from everyday life.
The spiritual teacher will claim the entire life of the disciple as his/her field of action. There is no area of the disciple’s life free from scrutiny and correction. Taking this claim at face value, it only follows that every aspect of the teacher’s life is also open to critical examination by the student. There is no life of the spirit divorced from everyday human interactions and mundane concerns. This is where the rubber meets the road.
Even clearly unethical or illegal behavior on the part of a spiritual teacher may be excused as an opportunity to grow in your spiritual practice. Just remember you can move on. You are a divine being. Love already exists in you. You do not need a teacher to confirm this fact.
Pauli Halstead
9/8/2025
I see you wrote this in Sept. Was this just after you left?
I had a lot of anger to process after leaving. It took me quite a while to move through it. I even returned a few times for a visit to see if I could still be triggered. With each visit, the trigger was lessening.
It’s all actually pretty funny. She is perfect as she is, for those who need to experience what she offers. Obviously, I needed to, until I didn’t. She wasn’t wrong. I just outgrew the need for what she offered.
Without her, I probably would have found another way to get the lessons, to realize that I needed to honor myself, my experience regardless of what another said. Once out, I felt like I had wasted so many years but now, I see that waste is impossible. No one is enlightened and no one isn’t.
This is a play playing out and not one of us is in control of what we are doing, not me, not any teacher. It is all playing out as it must, showing us all exactly where we are resonating, the ‘we’ in the play, the stage characters with roles to play.
It’s quite the cosmic joke. None of it is real. All of it is real. Both, at the same time, that is if time were to exist.
Much love to you for the journey, sweetheart.
It’s All Good!