Tag: ex-guru experience

The Tragic Consequences of Romantic Relationships Between Tibetan Gurus and Their Female Disciples

mim

In the world of Tibetan Tantra, the guru is not merely a teacher. He is regarded as a living embodiment of enlightenment, someone who, once accepted, must be obeyed as if he were the Buddha himself. Into this framework walk countless Western women, often earnest seekers of truth, healing, or transcendence. But when romance, sexuality, and devotion become intertwined, the results are rarely transformative. More often, they are tragic.

This article explores the inherent power imbalance, cultural dissonance, and psychological manipulation that underpin many intimate relationships between Tibetan tantric gurus and their female disciples.

A Different Cultural Code

In Tibetan culture, it is not uncommon for powerful men, including lamas, to have secret relationships, multiple consorts, or children outside of marriage. In many traditional communities, this behavior is normalized, even expected. Male infidelity is culturally tolerated, and truth-telling in romantic relationships is not seen as a moral imperative.

For many Western women, however, raised in societies where emotional honesty and monogamy are core values in intimate relationships, these behaviors come as a rude awakening. When a Tibetan lama engages in a romantic or sexual relationship with a Western disciple, he often does so under entirely different assumptions than she brings to the table.

The result is a tragic mismatch, not only of expectations, but of entire worldviews.

Samaya: A Weaponized Vow

At the heart of tantric Buddhism is the concept of samaya, a sacred vow of loyalty and obedience to the guru. These vows are complex, often opaque, and understood differently in Tibetan contexts than in the West. A Western woman may believe she is entering a relationship based on mutual affection or spiritual partnership, while the guru sees her as a consort, a dakini, a means to an end, whose role is to support his realization through sexual union, secrecy, and ritual submission. A less realized guru might just use women for his own sexual satisfaction without having the ability to properly engage in tantric sex for spiritual ends. This is often true nowadays.

In any case, breaking samaya is said to have dire consequences, not only spiritually, but psychologically, and physically. The risk is greatly compounded if the woman undertakes a traditional three-year-retreat and engages in the highest yoga tantra practices, including the physical yoga. The looming threat of tantric destruction can trap women in relationships that are exploitative, confusing, and coercive. Once the guru becomes the channel for the deity, any questioning of his authority can be framed as demonic and a cause for imminent karmic downfall.

Possession Disguised as Enlightenment

Tantric union is not merely symbolic. It often involves rituals where the guru is said to be “inhabited” by the deity and his voice, gaze, and touch become divinely charged. During such practices, the female disciple is encouraged to dissolve her ego, to merge into the guru-deity, and to practice dak nang or “pure view.” This process can mimic, and in some cases become, a form of spiritual possession.

What’s often missed is the psychological and energetic takeover that occurs. The guru, now deified in the disciple’s mind and practice, can dominate her thoughts, dreams, emotions, and even her bodily functions. This fusion can make it nearly impossible for her to discern spiritual guidance from emotional manipulation or sexual coercion.

Real-World Tragedies

Numerous cases, both widely reported and quietly suppressed, illustrate the dangers of intimate relationships between tantric gurus and their students. These accounts reveal recurring patterns of deception, coercion, and spiritual abuse, all cloaked in esoteric language and asymmetrical power dynamics. They are not isolated incidents but part of a systemic pattern deeply embedded in a tradition that grants unchecked spiritual authority to men who are rarely held accountable.

For those who wish to explore further, consider just a few of the many investigations and testimonies:

Buddhist Project Sunshine – Phase 3 Final Report (2018)
This comprehensive report documents allegations of abuse within the Rigpa community, providing detailed accounts and analyses.
📄 Read the PDF Report

Beyond the Temple – What Now? Blog
Formerly known as “What Now?”, this blog offers reflections and information from ex-Rigpa members about their experiences and the broader implications of abuse in spiritual communities.
Beyond the Temple – Survivors of Abuse in Tibetan Buddhism

Tricycle – “Rigpa Abuse: Former Students of Sogyal Rinpoche Share Their Stories”
An article featuring firsthand accounts from former students detailing their experiences with Sogyal Rinpoche and the Rigpa organization.
📰 Read the Article

Lion’s Roar – “Letter to Sogyal Rinpoche from Current and Ex-Rigpa Members Details Abuse Allegations”
This piece publishes a letter from Rigpa members outlining specific abuse allegations against Sogyal Rinpoche.
📄 Read the Letter

The Aftermath: Disillusionment and Healing

For many women, the breaking point comes when the promised enlightenment fails to materialize, and the emotional wounds become undeniable. Depression, anxiety, spiritual confusion, sexual trauma, and a profound crisis of faith often follow. Some leave Tibetan Buddhism altogether. Others struggle for years in silence, fearing karmic retribution or spiritual failure.

But there is also healing. More and more survivors are finding their voices, connecting with others, and re-evaluating what true spirituality looks like outside the grip of occult religions.

Conclusion: A Cautionary Tale

The guru-disciple relationship in tantric Buddhism is not a romantic ideal. It is a spiritual contract saturated with asymmetrical power, cultural blindness, and theological complexity. When this dynamic becomes sexual, the risks multiply exponentially. For Western women seeking union with the divine, the guru-lover becomes not a liberator but a captor. The elaborate practice of guru yoga further seals the deal.

This truth must be told, not to demonize individuals or traditions, but to expose the structural and spiritual dangers that thrive in secrecy. Love, in its purest form, cannot flourish where truth is sacrificed to deception and devotion is manipulated into coercion.

What I Thought I Was Practicing in Tibetan Buddhism vs. What It Really Was

mim

When I first encountered Tibetan Buddhism, I was filled with awe, curiosity, and hope. I was drawn to the idea of understanding the nature of mind, developing calm abiding (shamatha), and cultivating compassion and insight. I immersed myself in classic Mahayana texts like the Uttaratantra Shastra, with its soaring vision of Buddha nature, the luminous potential for awakening that each sentient being carries within them.

At that time, I was eager to deepen my meditation practice and learn how to navigate the mental storms of daily life. I believed this was a path of inner wisdom, clarity, and direct realization. I thought I had found something intellectually rigorous and deeply profound.

But after committing years of my life I realized that Tibetan Tantric Buddhism was a spiritual system that operated under authoritarian control, cultural secrecy, and a disturbing atmosphere of fear.

The Surface Beauty: What Drew Me In

  • The language of awareness, wisdom, and nonduality
  • Practices that promised to tame the mind and open the heart
  • Philosophical texts filled with Buddhist logic, the concept of emptiness, and the path of the bodhisattva
  • Encouragement to observe the mind and transcend egoic fixation

Like many sincere Western seekers, I accepted the rigid cultural structure, including the many hours of chanting in Tibetan, the hierarchy, and the ornate rituals, as necessary forms for accessing ancient wisdom. I told myself these were wrappings around the real treasure.

What I Actually Encountered

Instead of freedom, I slowly found myself embedded in a system that demanded unquestioning obedience to the guru, who was said to be indistinguishable from the Buddha himself. We were told the guru’s words were more important than our own inner convictions. If we had doubts, those were signs of impure perception or obstacles on the path.

And so, I suppressed my own sense of truth.

Instead of learning to observe my mind freely, I was encouraged, compelled, really, to submit my perception, my will, and even my moral conscience to someone else’s “realization.” In time, I was told that even misconduct or abuse from a guru must be viewed as pure, and that questioning it was a sign of my spiritual deficiency.

Essentially this was total submission to a human teacher presented as a living deity.

A Necessary Evil… or Something More?

For a long time, I rationalized this aspect of guru devotion. I thought, “This is just part of the package. I’ll take the good parts and accept the hierarchical guru system as a necessary condition to receive the blessings.”

But nothing prepared me for the revelation that this system involved actual practices of deity possession, and in some cases, black magic rituals by a covert spiritual power structure that operated on vengeance. And this wasn’t metaphorical.

The Hidden Core: Deity Possession and Guru Sorcery

Many Tibetan Vajrayana rituals involve āveśa, a concept that translates into spirit or deity possession. The practitioner “invites” a deity to merge with their mindstream. The guru is not just a teacher; he is seen as an embodiment of the deity, and rituals are performed to enforce that identification.

I discovered too late that some high-level gurus use this system to gain psychic and physical access to their disciples, manipulate their minds, and even curse those who disobey or break vows. This is not hyperbole but what has been hidden under the language of compassion and wisdom: a deeply esoteric system of spiritual domination.

My Awakening

It took me years to deprogram myself from the idea that questioning a guru meant spiritual death, and even longer to reclaim my own inner voice, the voice God placed in me. I now walk a different path entirely: One that does not require blind submission, that honors truth over secrecy, and Christ over cosmic manipulation.

If You’re Reading This…

You’re not crazy for feeling that something is off. You’re not wrong to listen to your instincts. What seems like harmless chanting, beautiful thangkas, and inspiring philosophy may hide something far more controlling and spiritually dangerous than you realize.

Jesus Let Me Walk Away; the Gurus Did Not

mim

When I was fifteen, I walked away from the Catholic Church.

There was no drama, no spiritual backlash, no eerie sense of guilt or dread. I simply left. I had questions, and I didn’t know the answers. Like so many teenagers raised in religion, I drifted toward freedom, or what I thought was freedom. But I never stopped believing in Jesus Christ. I always knew He was real.

Still, for eight years, I lived outside the Church. No demons haunted me. No spiritual “agents” came after me. No dark force tried to pull me back or punish me. I was free to explore.

Then, at twenty-three, I was introduced to Tibetan Buddhism by a friend. Spiritual curiosity quickly became commitment. The teachings were deep, the rituals profound, and the promises huge. My belief in Jesus wasn’t challenged outright; instead, the gurus cleverly and swiftly recast Him as a “bodhisattva,” one of many enlightened beings in a cosmic buffet of spiritual options. I was told He was admirable, but not unique. Just another wise, and probably enlightened teacher.

I didn’t realize then how that subtle shift had planted the seeds of spiritual confusion. Over time, the practices became more demanding and more secretive. Eventually questions weren’t welcomed. When I began to notice darker occult elements woven into the heart of the practice, I had troubling doubts. The tantric path spoke of vajra hell, an eternal punishment for those who questioned or broke samaya (spiritual vows to the guru). And not just for betrayal or disobedience, but even for internal doubts.

And when I had them, everything changed.

I was tossed out. Not just socially or emotionally, but spiritually. I was attacked, not just by my former gurus, but by unseen forces. It was violent and supernatural. The very same tradition that had claimed to offer peace and enlightenment unleashed something very dark the moment I started to turn away from the guru.

This wasn’t like walking away from the Catholic Church. It was completely different. I experienced a spiritual assault of such magnitude that no one could believe me. And it begged the question: What kind of spiritual path tortures you for eternity for having doubts?

A demonic path does.The historical Buddha taught to question everything, but tantra did not allow it.

Tibetan Buddhism may parade as a tradition of compassion and peace, but my experience showed otherwise. If it were truly of the Light, it wouldn’t need to threaten vajra hell or unleash invisible tormentors on those who simply ask blunt and honest questions. It wouldn’t need to cloak the guru in infallibility while turning a blind eye to his abuse. And it certainly wouldn’t need to demonically retaliate against a soul simply for having doubts and trauma. The difference between the two paths couldn’t be clearer. When I left the Church, there was silence. When I left Tibetan Buddhism, there was war.