Healers, coaches, and anyone drawn to the helping professions are all works in progress. And yet, people entrust us with their deepest pain, their stories, and their hopes. That’s a responsibility that demands more than just good intentions and impressive modalities.
When I first discovered my psychic abilities, I felt so much power by being a messenger between worlds. Later, in my 30s, coaching and family constellation work gave me that buzz again: “Wow, I can really help people.” But beneath that feeling was something bigger—an eagerness to help that I now recognize as the saviour complex.
This isn’t just my story. This is a pattern. And I am sure you played some parts in this story as well.
The Saviour Complex: Good Intentions, Twisted Roots
It often starts in childhood. You were the one who held it all together, made sure the adults were okay, ensured peace by keeping your needs under the carpet. That early caregiver wiring doesn’t disappear—it matures into a career path. And society loves you for it. You're out there “making a difference,” “giving back,” “healing the world.”
The saviour complex isn’t about others. It’s about you and the formation of your ego as a "natural caregiver". Just a reminder ego formation is a natural and normal process - in this blog I will never judge the ego. But now your ego, or inner wounded child, whispers:
“If I save people, I’ll be loved.”
“If I fix this, I’ll finally be worthy.”
“If I’m needed, I belong.”
It looks noble on the outside, but it quietly disempowers the very people you think you’re helping. You see the problem, you bring the solution and you bypass their agency. These kind of thoughts are often in the subconscious mind, covered by thoughts of doing good and bringing justice where there was unfairness.
This same dynamic plays out in humanitarian aid—where saviourism runs rampant. Donors and NGOs from western countries design solutions for disadvantaged communities they've never lived in or never fully listened to. The result? Shiny programs, fragile impact, disempowered recipients.
Healing work is no different when the saviour ego is driving.
Red Flags You’re in Saviour Mode
Let’s get uncomfortably honest. Here are a few signs you’re not just helping—you’re saving:
Shy saviour or loud messiah: Whether it shows up as humblebragging or miracle-making, a lack of humility is telling.
High on transformation: That rush of helping someone shift can be intoxicating. Just remember—it's their transformation, not your trophy.
You are your modality: When your identity fuses with your toolset, you can’t hear feedback or let clients choose what works for them.
Moral high ground: That quiet (or not-so-quiet) voice whispering, “I know what’s best.”
Lack of boundaries, all empathy: You’ve blurred the line between compassion and codependency. Because you feel very deeply everything around you, you may end up wanting to follow your empathy everywhere it goes.
Trying to fix the world: Because you want to be loved and accepted, your saviour ego can follow the empathy and wish to be everything to everyone. But it is impossible. You are not God.
What To Do Instead
Ask yourself:
Why do I want help others? When did I become a caregiver? Who was I trying to rescue back then?
What is your contribution? —And work on separating your contribution from your identity.
Define your values, not just your skills. What ethics do you want your service to carry?
When you feel that rush of power, pause. Are you giving it back to the client? Are you creating power with or power over? How do you empower the people you serve?
We are work in progress. We are messy, evolving beings. But if we’ve chosen to walk alongside others in their healing, we have a responsibility to keep our own egos and saviour complex in check.
If you felt a little uncomfortable reading this—good.
And if you want to talk about it, I’m here.