My First Ayahuasca Experience: Not What I Expected

I did ayahuasca for the first time, and it was not what I expected. First, I want to say that I have so much respect for the medicine and for everyone’s unique experience with it. This is solely my experience that I’m sharing—everyone’s journey with it is different.

Before even considering doing ayahuasca, I had a preconceived notion. Ayahuasca has a reputation for bringing about very intense, even extreme, experiences. I thought that everyone who took Aya would blast out of their body, hallucinate, and meet God. I had only ever heard about people’s negative and traumatizing experiences with it. While that can happen, it’s not guaranteed.

When I first heard about the ceremony happening, I inquired the host about it. I mentioned that I was curious but unsure if I was ready. As a girlie who has struggled with anxiety, I was afraid of having a scary, overwhelming experience. I told the host I was scared to see things, and she reassured me that hallucinations aren’t always part of the experience.

She explained that ayahuasca is an intelligent medicine—you can communicate with it. For example, I could go into the experience saying, “I’m very scared, please be gentle with me, I don’t want to hallucinate.” I learned how important it is to set intentions beforehand, as that really helps shape your journey.

I was nervous, but it helped to understand that everyone’s experience is different and that it isn’t always intense. That made me more open to the process, knowing it didn’t have to be extreme. That was my first big surprise.

Another misconception I had was that you had to travel to another country to participate in a ceremony. I was surprised to learn that ayahuasca is granted legal exemption under certain religious groups in the U.S., and that ceremonies are held in various places across the country. Of course, it’s still so important to be cautious about who you trust to lead a ceremony. That was a big deciding factor for me—I felt comfortable with and trusted the people guiding ours. I think I would have been more anxious in a foreign country with strangers.

The people I shared the ceremony with made it a really comfortable experience for me.

The ceremony began with a tobacco cleanse, which helped calm me. We then partook in Rapéh (pronounced ha-peh). Rapéh is sacred shamanic snuff medicine, indigenous to the Amazon jungle. It’s a powdered medicine typically containing ashes of sacred tobacco and another master plant called Tsunu. It’s administered through the nose using a pipe called a Tepi, made from bamboo, wood, or bone.

I didn’t know what to expect, having never even heard of Rapéh before. In general, it is said to help re-align and open chakras, release stuck energy and sickness, facilitate deep connection and grounding, open the third eye, de-calcify the pineal gland, clear mental fog, release negativity and entities, and elevate spiritual connection.

For me, this was really intense. I felt it go straight to my brain. Honestly, it was more intense than my ayahuasca experience. I felt tingling all over my body and started shaking—shaking is how my body regulates my nervous system. I also cried, as I needed to purge some emotion.

After some time, it was time for the Aya. I noticed the medicine being passed to others and thought, “Oh great, here we go. I don’t know if I’m ready.” My heart was racing as they brought it to me. I knew that once I drank it, there was no turning back. I smelled it—it reminded me of wine. I took a few deep breaths and drank it when I felt ready. It didn't taste as bad as I thought it might. The taste was a little strong but not intolerable.

Each person received a different portion. I was told I’d be taking a microdose. It looked to me about just under a shot glass. After drinking, I did some gentle movement and then laid down with an eye mask on. I waited, knowing it can take 30 minutes or so to take effect. I remember praying to Aya, “Please be gentle with me.”

As I laid there, I felt held—like a little baby—and very calm. Music played over the speakers, and I was just vibing and swaying my legs. I was in my own little world. I took off my eye mask to peek at everyone else and realized I might’ve been the only one kind of dancing. At one point, I got up to use the bathroom and was literally dancing to the music. I felt genuinely happy.

This was not what I expected. I thought I’d purge, throw up, be miserable, and go through some kind of tortured transformation. I had always believed that everyone who took Aya threw up—but that’s not always the case. You might purge in one ceremony but not in another.

I was also surprised to learn how often people participate in ceremonies. I thought it was a one-and-done type of thing, but some people have done it 10 times or more.

Later in the ceremony, I just laid down, watched others, and went inward. I received a few insights and answers, but nothing overwhelming. I didn’t feel chakras blasting open or intense body sensations. I did feel a bit nauseous sitting up, so I stayed lying down.

I ended up taking two doses. A third was offered, but I declined. I felt good with where I was and didn’t want to push myself over the edge. At one point, I saw what looked like a bunch of grouped-together eyes, kind of similar to evil eye, but that was the only visual I experienced with my eyes open. It wasn’t too intense, but I did worry it might not go away.

As the ceremony went on, I just got really tired and was ready to go to bed. Apparently, Aya continues to work within you for weeks afterward.

It’s been a couple of days, and I’m still receiving insights and guidance. I noticed a major perspective shift during my drive home—I felt full of gratitude and love for myself.

Now that it’s been a few days, I honestly feel like I’ve returned to normal life. I did have a bit of a crisis moment because I expected a massive mindset shift, and that hasn’t happened—yet.

The most significant message I received during Aya was that I know I’m meant to dance, though I don’t yet know how that will unfold in my life. I trust that Aya will continue to work with me, and I know that the integration process is just as important as the ceremony itself.

So, will I ever do ayahuasca again? I’m not sure. Right now, I don’t feel drawn to it again, but who knows if my soul will call me back.

Honestly, I prefer microdosing psilocybin. I find it offers quiet, clear, immediate insights, it’s a shorter process, and comes with less nausea. After this experience, I’ve realized that mindful practices like meditation, grounding, yoga, dancing, and breathwork can bring powerful clarity. We don’t need to keep searching outside of ourselves for truth—the truth is already within us.

Overall, I’m just so thankful that I didn’t have a bad experience. My perspective on Aya has completely shifted, and it was a truly eye-opening experience.