There’s a toxic side to Bali’s expat community no influencer shows you — I experienced it

I landed in Bali thinking I’d found paradise.

Fast Wi-Fi. $2 smoothie bowls. Coworking spaces that looked like temples. And everywhere I turned—someone was building a personal brand, launching a new app, or running a six-figure coaching business.

It was like Disneyland for digital entrepreneurs.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth no influencer puts in their highlight reel: under the surface, Bali’s expat scene can get weirdly toxic—and fast.

And yeah, I experienced it firsthand.

The sunshine hustle: where everyone’s “crushing it”

At first, I was inspired. Everyone seemed to be winning. Crypto millionaires. Productivity bros. Spiritual healers who made 30k a month teaching breathwork on Zoom.

But soon, something started to feel… off.

Every conversation felt like a pitch. Every friend group revolved around who had the latest brand collab or biggest launch. Vulnerability? Only if it converted. Relationships? Often transactional. And behind the scenes, plenty of people were burning out hard—but pretending they weren’t.

When you’re surrounded by people constantly “living their best life,” it messes with your head. You start wondering if you’re the only one who’s lonely, stressed, or just wants a normal conversation that doesn’t involve funnel hacks or cacao ceremonies.

Spoiler: you’re not.

Spiritual bypassing meets startup bro culture

Bali attracts two dominant archetypes:

1. The hustle-fueled digital nomad chasing scale.

2. The spiritually awakened healer running retreats and “energy work” sessions.

At first glance, they seem like opposites. But weirdly, they blend together into this strange cocktail of spiritual materialism.

One minute, someone’s telling you that abundance is your birthright. The next, they’re ghosting their Airbnb host after trashing the villa. It’s “good vibes only” until accountability shows up.

I met people who could quote Eckhart Tolle chapter and verse—while dodging taxes, mistreating locals, and treating Balinese culture like a backdrop for their Instagram feed.

It’s toxic positivity meets ethical amnesia.

The dark undercurrent no one talks about

Let’s talk class divide.

There’s an ugly line between the expat community and the locals—and it’s not just economic. It’s attitude.

Many expats live in a bubble. They never learn a word of Bahasa. They barely interact with Balinese people unless it’s for service. And when things go wrong—like visa issues or a scooter accident—there’s a wave of entitlement that surfaces. “Do you know who I am?” vibes. Colonial undertones wrapped in yoga pants and flowy linen shirts.

It’s not everyone, of course. But it’s enough that you feel it. That you see it.

And when you bring it up? You get called negative. Or worse—“not aligned.”

The pressure to perform — even your personality

In Bali, even authenticity feels like a performance.

You’re expected to be “healed.” To have your morning routine dialed. Your gut biome optimized. Your trauma processed. Your brand story polished to perfection.

There’s little room for messiness. Or confusion. Or the plain old human experience of not knowing what the hell you’re doing with your life.

When I admitted to some friends I was struggling with burnout and questioning everything, I was met with blank stares. One person actually said, “Maybe your frequency is off.”

That was the moment I realized: this wasn’t community. It was theater.

What I wish I knew before moving to Bali

Don’t get me wrong—Bali is beautiful. I still love the place. I met some incredible people there, had life-changing conversations, and built part of my business on a terrace overlooking rice fields.

But I also saw the cracks.

So if you’re thinking about making the move, here’s my no-fluff advice:

• Vet your circle. Don’t just follow the loudest voices. Look for people grounded in real values—not just algorithms.

• Don’t lose your edge. Bali can make you soft. Comfort is addictive. Stay hungry—but stay ethical.

• Respect the locals. Learn the language. Understand the culture. Tip well. Be humble.

• Take the mask off. You don’t have to be “on” all the time. The right people will respect your realness.

Final thoughts

Bali sold me the dream. And for a while, I bought it.

But underneath the paradise filter, there’s a scene that can quietly eat away at your sense of self—if you’re not careful.

The good news? You don’t have to play the game.

You can build a life that’s free, connected, and meaningful—without pretending to be perfect, healed, or high-vibe 24/7.

Just don’t expect to see that on anyone’s feed.