In the last week, I’ve seen a disturbing trend among spiritual influencers, particularly white ones, calling for “oneness,” urging their followers to stay connected to family and friends who support Trump, to resist “severing ties” with those who uphold his ideology, essentially telling people to “love thy oppressor."
They preach unity, love, and forgiveness (what is there to forgive?), pushing the idea that we’re all one and that differences shouldn’t divide us. But here’s the problem: this isn’t a matter of tax rates or military spending. This is about civil rights, humanity, and people’s fundamental rights to happiness and safety—the very ideals these influencers claim to support are the ones now under threat for millions.
Spiritual influencers like Jenna Phillips Ballard call for “oneness” while sidestepping the reality of what the incoming administration promises: mass deportations that will forcibly tear families apart, strip people of their possessions, and devastate entire communities; policies that would erase trans people from public life, cutting access to medical care, education, and basic rights; and targeted attacks on LGBTQ+ rights, reducing queer people to second-class status by taking away marriage rights, workplace protections, and even the ability to adopt or foster children. These aren’t hypothetical threats; they are explicit goals of the incoming administration, documented in their own words.
These same folks justify their votes, saying, “It hasn’t happened yet.” But when it does happen, it’ll be too late. By the time civil liberties are stripped away, by the time rights are gutted and hatred is legislated, the damage will be done, and no amount of “love” or “oneness” can undo it.
Meanwhile, influencers like Aubrey Marcus call for love, goodness, and God while backing an ideology that promises anything but that. As a straight, white man, he will likely never experience the harm or oppression his rhetoric fuels—his privilege blinds him.
Mark Groves tells his audience not to cut ties or end relationships over “differences.” But these differences are not trivial. They’re born of oppression, not simple disagreements about tax policy or favorite cookie recipes. These are differences over basic human rights, over the erasure of entire groups from public discourse, and over policies that could devastate lives. They’re differences about the vitriol of figures like Nick Fuentes, who incite hatred and pose real dangers, especially to young girls.
And yet, as I see Trump-supporting voices loud and clear in the spiritual/coaching space, I have to ask—where are the spiritual leaders and influencers who don’t agree with this ideology? Where are the voices condemning the hatred and division this regime represents? Why are they silent?
Is it because speaking up might hurt their wallets, their follower counts? Why is it that the loudest voices are those of people who will never be oppressed? Where are you? Why aren’t you standing up?
Is it because it’s hard? Because it threatens your peace? Because maybe you think you’re not responsible for the suffering of those around you? Fine—but what about those in your community? Those who follow you, who pay you, who put their trust in your words and beliefs? What about them? What about me?
Who are you shielding with your silence? Because your silence is louder than anything you might say. It alienates, it harms, and it pushes away those of us who believed in what you stood for. It makes us wonder if, deep down, you actually agree with the loud voices in your circle. That can’t be true…can it?
And while you sit in silence, it’s the masses, once again, doing the labor, out here resisting, doing the real work. Meanwhile, you stay comfortably in your towers, untouched. You know how influence and reach work; you know full well that your words would be taken seriously because most people follow big names in these spaces. It’s human nature to look up to the “celebs." And sure, for now, the masses will do the work anyway—but your silence is glaring, and it shows exactly who you value and who you don’t.
This isn’t a call for unity at all costs. It’s a call for accountability, for responsibility, and for those who preach oneness to recognize that real unity doesn’t ignore oppression—it confronts it.
I’m curious—how will you reconcile the suffering that’s coming?
Deportations. "Well, they shouldn’t be here illegally." Legally, maybe, you’re right. But using that as a shield misses the real human impact. These people will be sent “back” while we strip them of everything they have—literally leaving them with only the clothes on their backs. And that’s justified because…law? Are we still all "one" then? Where is unity when that unity requires us to witness suffering and stay silent?
Trans rights. The movement to erase trans people because their existence doesn’t fit a particular worldview. Imagine the level of ego it takes to deny someone’s very existence. (Yes, that’s a collective “you”—it’s a GOP/MAGA talking point.)
Gay rights. Stripping gay people of their rights, making them second-class citizens. We’re still “one"? Funny how “oneness” only seems to apply when it’s convenient and not when someone else’s suffering becomes too uncomfortable to confront. Violence against LGBTQ+ people has already been on the rise since Trump’s last administration. How do you defend that? Maybe it’s not you directly, but it’s the full spectrum of people you elevate with your vote—the people who cheer on violence, discrimination, and erasure.
These are only small examples of what’s to come. It doesn’t touch on the level of hate and racism already brewing—MAGA supporters telling young girls, “your body, my choice,” or telling Black folks to “get ready for the plantation.” Violence against marginalized communities is already on the rise and has been since Trump’s first term.
So, tell me—how does a spiritual oneness advocate reconcile siding with a president endorsed by the KKK and Nazis as the best candidate for their agenda? How do you still call for unity when that unity requires harm against others? Maybe you voted for the economy or because you're pro-life. But with those policies come countless others—policies that will lead to lives destroyed, lives upended, lives lost. But we’re all one, right? As long as it doesn’t hit my wallet.
And now, with Project 2025 looming on the horizon—Trump’s plan to expand presidential power far beyond its limits—he says “it’s not him, he doesn't support it.” Isn’t it interesting that one of his very first appointees to his incoming administration is someone who contributed to writing that very document? Coincidence? Hardly.
Forget Project 2025, this appointee is the same one who previously oversaw kids in cages (with many of those kids never seeing their parents again). If these plans become reality, we’re looking at a government with unchecked power, with little standing in the way of laws that could shatter lives.
Sure, the collective can and will deploy every tool in its arsenal to fight back, the ACLU is and will continue in full force leveraging every existing precedent to fight fascism; all hope is not lost. But the battle will be exponentially harder because all three branches of government are controlled by one party, and will operate (as we saw last time) to bend to his many whims. This is what you’ve aligned yourself with.
I’m genuinely curious—how do you define oneness? Because for me, if one of us is suffering, we’re all suffering. And yet, I see silence from you, Jenna, Mark, Aubrey, and from all those in your circle on the violence and hatred that’s already unfolding. It’s interesting—you use your platforms to chastise others about unity, but you never call out the hate and division that’s spreading from “your side.”
If you’re going to preach unity, shouldn’t that include calling out the actions and policies that directly oppose it? The moral thing to do is to address both sides—especially when it’s uncomfortable. Real unity doesn’t ignore suffering; it demands we face it, even when it’s not convenient or profitable.
