What Happens After a Spiritual Awakening? A Story of Grief, Growth, and Becoming

People talk about spiritual awakenings like they’re this radiant, soul-shaking epiphany. A light switch moment. Blissful. Instant clarity. An awakening.

But here’s the truth no one tells you: most awakenings don’t feel like light. They feel like loss.

Mine began slowly. Not with divine downloads or messages from the universe, but with exhaustion. With crying on my way to work. Crying on my lunch breaks. Crying in the bathroom because I felt stuck in a life that looked “fine” on paper, but left me empty and suffocating inside.

I had followed the formula. Got the degree. Landed the job. Clocked in and out like I was supposed to. But every morning I had to drag myself into that office, I felt a deeper part of myself slip away. My body coped the best it could—overworking, overeating, over-caffeinating—trying to outrun what I refused to feel. And at some point, I realized I wasn’t just tired. I was spiritually starved.

In an act of desperation, I joined a group fitness class. It wasn’t spiritual. It wasn’t even that deep at first. But it got me moving. Breathing. I lost 140 pounds over two years. I changed careers. Became a fitness instructor. It gave me back a sense of control—until it didn’t.

I thought changing my body would change my life. But no matter how “fit” I looked on the outside, something was still screaming from the inside. I was teaching back-to-back classes, helping others transform their lives, while secretly I was burning out all over again. That’s when it hit me: I had just replaced one kind of performance with another.

The pandemic cracked me open. The world slowed down, and for the first time in years, I had to be still with myself. There was no work to hide behind. No distractions loud enough to drown out my truth. It was just me—and all the parts I had been avoiding.

So I started exploring deeper healing. I tried microdosing. Sat in plant medicine ceremonies. Journaled through the mess. Booked sessions with energy healers and life coaches. I started peeling back the layers—painfully, beautifully—and found something under all the noise: me.

But awakening didn’t feel like a breakthrough at first. It felt like grief.

Grief for the version of me I had to let go of. Grief for the friendships that couldn’t come with me. Grief for a life I had worked so hard to build that no longer felt like mine.

I felt isolated, raw, like I was walking around without skin. There were migraines. Insomnia. Gut issues. Brain fog. Some days I could barely get out of bed. Others, I felt like I was on fire with truth I couldn’t yet speak.

And then it got worse. In the span of a year, my best friend and business partner betrayed me and stole the fitness studio we built together. Four months later, my home burned down in a fire and I lost everything.

I could’ve crumbled. Honestly, I almost did. But deep in the rubble of that year, I also found clarity. The kind that can only come when everything is stripped away and you’re left staring at the foundation of who you are.

I realized I wasn’t meant to chase someone else’s idea of success. I wasn’t meant to shrink, to people please, or to make myself digestible to be loved or hired. I was meant to lead. To guide. To hold space for others in their own unraveling.

So what really happens after a spiritual awakening?

You lose the life you thought you wanted—and begin building the one your soul has been begging for.

You feel everything deeper. Joy, grief, love, fear. The highs are higher, and the lows… they stretch you until you think you’ll snap. But you don’t. You bend. You become. You rise.

You stop looking for answers outside of yourself. You learn to trust your gut, your energy, your boundaries.

You find community—people who get it, who see you, who feel you.

You trade hustle for intention. Productivity for presence. Validation for truth.

You cry more. Laugh harder. Say no faster. Forgive yourself deeper.

You create a business that doesn’t just pay the bills, but fuels your soul. You no longer perform healing—you embody it.

This journey led me to create Vibrant Zen—a business built from the ashes of my former life. It's not perfect. I'm not perfect. But it’s real. It’s aligned. And it’s mine.

So if you’re in the middle of your own unraveling—if you feel lost, tired, confused, or like nothing makes sense anymore—I want you to know: you’re not broken. You’re breaking open.

Stay the course.

The other side of awakening is deeper joy. Fulfillment. Trust. Real connection. And yes—abundance.

You’re not crazy for wanting more. You’re not selfish for choosing yourself. You’re not behind. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

Keep going. You’re not alone.

If this resonated with you, my door is open. Whether you’re looking for energy healing, sound baths, coaching, or community—there’s a space for you here. You can explore my offerings on my website or reach out directly to connect.

Peace & power to you
💜 Liz