There was a time not so long ago, say aroud 2012, when the most dedicated “experts” in your life were nutritional therapists pushing kale with evangelical zeal. Then came perimenopause. Then came gut health. Then came perimenopause again, but with gut health for hormonal balance. And now? They’ve pretty much all become mindfulness coaches.
Karen, who used to be your dog’s hydrotherapist and part-time essential oil sommelier, now whispers affirmations on Instagram while sitting cross-legged in a field. Sandra, who once sold sugar-free brownies made with black beans, now guides menopausal women through “chakra-cleansing breathwork journeys” via Zoom. What happened?
There’s a curious psychological phenomenon at play here. Psychologists call it identity diffusion via adjacent trend adoption. Non-psychologists call it rebranding; in simpler terms, when people feel unsure of their place in the ever-shifting cultural fog, they do what any self-respecting influencer does: they “pivot”.
It’s perfectly natural, really. We all want to be helpful. We all want to be seen. And let’s be honest, some of us quite like being paid £79.99 a month for access to our “Mindful Goddess Reset Portal” (includes printable journal prompts and access to a private Facebook group where no one actually says anything helpful, but everyone sends you a heart emoji). Mindfulness is the perfect vehicle for trend-hopping because it’s:
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Vague enough to mean almost anything (“It’s about being present, darling, but without the Bolly.”)
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Inoffensive and self-flattering (“You’re already enough. You just need to buy my 12-week course to realise it.”)
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Low-risk and low-effort (it requires no lab coats, no qualifications, and no measurable outcomes)
And menopause? Well, that’s trending too. Combine the two, and you’ve got a winning formula: The Mindfully Menopausal Midlife Reset Method™. Coming soon to a podcast near you.
Now, before I get sued by a woman in a linen smock holding a rose quartz egg, let me clarify, I’m not saying all mindfulness is rubbish, or that no one should ever change career paths. Growth is good. Adaptability is a skill. And let’s face it, some people were truly not cut out for reflexology. But here’s the thing: when “expertise” becomes a game of musical chairs, with everyone scrambling for the next hot seat, we lose something valuable: credibility. Also, quite often, sanity – cue time for another cull on LinkedIn…
We start mistaking enthusiasm for evidence. Likes for legitimacy. Vibes for verified science. We start thinking, “Well, she has a ring light and a podcast, so she must know what she’s doing.” (Reality: she’s just requoting from notes she made during a 1-2-1 with a qualified psychologist).
And that’s when Karen talks you into microdosing dried sea moss while “setting intentions” for your pelvic floor. Here’s a novel idea: before jumping on board the next trendy ark before the algorithm floods, maybe we should ask ourselves some questions:
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Do I actually know what I’m talking about?
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Have I read anything beyond an Instagram carousel?
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Is this just a way to get attention in an increasingly noisy world?
- Can I really start and finish a PhD in a month, if I work really hard?
And if you’re on the receiving end of these trends, try this radical technique: Pause. Breathe. Ask yourself: Is this person a genuine guide, or just a very enthusiastic weather vane?
Trendy experts are a bit like sourdough starters; fun for a while, but eventually everyone forgets to feed them, they start to smell weird, and you wonder why you ever trusted them to begin with. So let’s stop swinging from one identity to the next like over-caffeinated trapeze artists. Let’s value real experience, solid evidence, and the fine art of saying “I don’t know” once in a while.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to meet someone I met on a network group last week. They do a course in “Breathwork for Burnout in Border Collies” – I’ve only got a Lab, but apparently the intro course is pan-breed so long as I bring my own yoga mat, crystals and dog treats.
Namaste.
Photo by Brad Starkey
