Life Coach Builds Fortune Teaching ‘Self-Integrity’ Through Infidelity
Dr. Sabrina Doctrine, PhD
Senior Mockitor, Emotional Overreaction
Senior Columnist, Psychology & Relationships

The pool was silent, except for the sound of laughter echoing off the tiled walls. A dozen adults floated naked under hanging vines in a rented Balinese villa, eyes closed, palms to the sky. It was called a “truth soak.” They had all paid nearly $4,000 to be here.
The program? “Holy Healing, Holy Cow.” A self-growth organization run by a spiritual life coach who claims to have studied “the energetic tension between men and women” for 11 years before achieving clarity on one universal truth: you are your desire, and denying it is the real betrayal.
“If you want to cheat,” the coach said during a livestream session, “cheat. That’s your higher self asking for release. Who are you to say no to that?”
Members nodded. One cried. Another Venmoed another $1,200 for a “radical authenticity mentorship upgrade.”
The core teaching, often referred to as “Sacred Yes,” previously known as “Liberated Love Life,” encourages members to date multiple people at once, without disclosure, since transparency is considered a form of self-abandonment. The group describes monogamy as a “social prison,” empathy as a “fear-based construct,” and commitment as “colonial.”
Workshops often begin with spiritual group breathing, followed by “vulnerability stripping” sessions (emotional, then literal) and naked yoga. Participants are told that resisting the urge to swim nude in a foreign country with strangers may indicate unresolved childhood shame, and the only cure is… well, more of the same.
Have you ever paid thousands to unlearn basic morality? These people have.
Trips to Mexico, Japan, the Philippines, and occasionally Nebraska (for “recalibration”) offer curated experiences in what the website calls “embodied liberation.” To the outside world, it looks a lot like privilege-fueled escapism, padded with buzzwords.
And while the organization insists it’s not a cult, its members do have to sign something called “The Soul Contract.” It contains phrases like “ego death clause,” “romantic fluidity,” and “energetic immunity,” none of which are recognized by therapists, lawyers, or anyone outside a Burning Man tent.
The coach, meanwhile, lives in a Los Angeles loft surrounded by crystals, incense, and at least two former followers who now teach their own brand of “conscious coupling.” No one’s quite sure who’s sleeping with whom. But that, apparently, is the point.