When Finding Your Tribe Means Losing Yourself

Have you ever felt something align so deeply that it felt like you’d been searching for it your whole life, without even realizing you were looking? That was the Amazon for me. What lead me there was yoga.  More than 20 years ago, a friend introduced me to a local yoga studio because she had a two-for-one class coupon, and I had no intention of falling in love with it. But something clicked. The physical practice came second to the philosophy and spiritual teachings. It felt like something was whispering to my heart, Sarah, I’m going to show you who you really are. I was hooked. 

That opening eventually led me to a yoga retreat in Peru’s Sacred Valley. Two weeks of yoga, the ancient Andes, Machu Picchu, and, well, plant medicine ceremonies. When I first heard about the retreat back in Canada, my heart said yes before I even knew the itinerary. When I learned about the ceremonies, I thought, Oh, dearest. Okay, then. I’d never tried psychedelics in my life, but for whatever reason, I decided to follow the thread. The experience changed the trajectory of my life in ways I couldn’t have imagined. In many ways, it brought me face-to-face with truths I already knew deep down but wasn’t ready to admit. Sometimes awakening doesn’t reveal something entirely new; it forces us to stop turning away from what we already know. And that can hurt like a fucking Band-Aid being ripped off an open wound – especially if we don’t want to hurt other people. 

A year later, I found myself divorced, rebuilding my life, and searching for more answers about who I was. I’d left my old community behind and felt pretty alone in this new world. I didn’t talk much about my spiritual experience, but eventually someone at my yoga studio connected me with a new group of people. For the first time in a while, I felt like I might have found my tribe. I immersed myself in that community for five years, feeling accepted and like I found my life path. What I didn’t realize was that, little by little, I was losing myself again. 

Have you ever heard of the Asch conformity experiments? They explored how easily people can be influenced to follow a group, even when they believe the group is wrong, simply because they want to fit in. It’s easy to watch and think, I would never do that. But the truth is, the desire to belong can be a powerful thing. Looking back, I was the frog in the pot, slowly boiling while insisting the water wasn’t even warm. I wouldn’t have consciously admitted I was following the group at the time, but I was gradually adapting to its beliefs and dynamics without fully recognizing what I was giving up in the process. 

Eventually, I started feeling increasingly uncomfortable and asking questions I couldn’t ignore. Why did everyone always seem to be struggling? Why did one person’s needs seem to matter more than everyone else’s? Why did I feel like a threat when I questioned things? And why did it feel like, when it came down to it, I didn’t really matter? My beliefs were beginning to misalign with the group, and I could no longer ignore the disconnect. I eventually decided to leave, and the silence that followed was painful. After everything, it felt as though my presence—and my absence—barely mattered. 

Looking back, I can see that I’d been carrying a subconscious belief that I didn’t matter, and that belief had followed me into other relationships, too. Different people, different circumstances, same damn story. Leaving the group didn’t magically resolve the pattern because the deeper work was mine to do. I had to recognize the belief underneath it all and learn to stop abandoning myself in exchange for acceptance. As uncomfortable as that realization was, it became one of the most valuable lessons of the entire experience. 

One of the biggest things I’ve learned is how easily groupthink can creep into any community. When we begin awakening, healing, or questioning everything we’ve ever known, finding people who understand us can feel like coming home. Suddenly, we have people to talk to, people who speak our language, people who seem to get it. And that connection can be beautiful. But please let’s absolutely not put spiritual communities on a pedestal. They’re also groups of human beings, complete with egos, insecurities, power dynamics, and unspoken rules. Every group has a culture, a set of beliefs about what’s acceptable and what happens when someone dares to disagree. Spiritual groups are no different. 

The tricky part is that when we finally feel like we belong, the thought of losing that connection can be frightening. We might start silencing our doubts, overlooking things that don’t feel right, or convincing ourselves that our discomfort is simply another lesson we need to work through. Sometimes it is. Growth isn’t always comfortable, and not every challenge means we need to walk away. But sometimes discomfort is telling us that we’re moving out of alignment with ourselves. The question is whether we’re being invited to grow within a community or being asked, subtly or otherwise, to shrink ourselves to remain part of it. There’s a difference, and learning to recognize it takes discernment. 

I don’t believe I failed by joining that community, and I don’t believe I failed by leaving it. It was all part of my journey, teaching me to value myself, speak up, and live more honestly. I can acknowledge what I learned without needing to make anyone else the villain. Sometimes people and communities are part of our lives for a season, and sometimes the lessons we need to learn emerge through experiences we never would have chosen for ourselves. The important thing is what we do with those lessons and whether we allow them to bring us closer to ourselves. 

The answer isn’t to isolate ourselves or become suspicious of every group we encounter. We need connection, community, and people who challenge and support us. But we also need sovereignty. Whether it’s a spiritual circle, a workplace, a sports team, a religion, or our own family, the people we surround ourselves with should enhance who we are, not slowly diminish us. We should be able to question things, evolve, disagree, and change without feeling that we’re risking our worth or our place in the world. A healthy community makes room for our growth rather than requiring us to sacrifice our inner knowing to keep the peace. 

Ultimately, this journey has taught me that belonging begins with the relationship we have with ourselves. This is ultimately the simplest of teachings.  Whether from yoga, ayahuasca, or connecting with ourself in meditation.  We can keep our hearts open to others without handing over our discernment. We can appreciate what a community has given us while recognizing when it’s time to move on. And we can take responsibility for our own patterns without shaming ourselves for the times we lose our way. So stay connected, but stay awake. Keep questioning things with an open heart, and pay attention when something within you starts whispering that it no longer fits. You don’t have to judge the group, blame the leaders, or prove that you’re right. Sometimes you simply have to honor what you know and trust yourself enough to act on it. Because no community, teacher, or belief system should require you to abandon yourself in order to belong. Your path is yours to walk, and your heart and discernment are there to help you find your way.