Soul Mates: The myth of happily ever after

They told me after he rejected me that all my spiritual instincts were wrong.  They said that if we were really soul mates, it would be impossible for him to not recognize me as his soul mate, that if there really was what I sensed about him between us, that we would automatically live happily ever after, as if FINDING your soul mate were enough to make the Cinderella dream come true.

 

With all deference to Cinderella (a story I still love) and other fairy tales...life is not some romantic fantasy filled with easy answers and gurantees. Life is messy and complicated.  The story doesn't end with the wedding to your prince charming.  Meeting the love of your life is not enough.

 

In November 2008, I met the man my soul loves more than any other person I've ever known. I admit, I was very messed up then, trying to survive an abusive relationship with a violent alcoholic -- who just happened to be my superior at my job.  I never expected to be in that predictiment nor trapped by my employer into the relationship.  This is, incidentally, why conventional wisdom tells you to NEVER DATE A COWORKER -- if things don't work out, it makes me all the harder to leave -- that is, if you want to keep your job!  I was put in exactly that bind -- if I left him for safety, I would be fired.

 

So the last thing I was looking for that day was to meet someone my soul recognized, someone I had seen in my dreams and visions my whole life.  It doesn't help here that I'm very sensitive to spiritual energies and an empath.  In 2008, my senses still controlled me instead of the other way around.  

 

My "boyfriend" at the time was an atheist, a man who ridiculed my spirituality and my spiritual sensitivity -- and forbade me from putting up a Yule tree or any sort of celebration of the December holidays.  Under his influence, I repressed my religious beliefs, my spirituality entirely.  I lost myself for a time as a soul.

 

I was not ready to meet my soul mate.

 

But there he was, unexpectedly.  He had recently moved back to New York and was attending the same living history re-enactment I was at.  I stood outside of the hall, trying to make a phone call when I first saw him.  In accord with our code of chivalry, he bowed to me and kissed my hand unexpectedly, introducing himself.

 

My soul felt a jolt, like getting hit by lightning.  I was immediately confused as energy surged up my arm from his lips on my hand.  Composing myself, I introduced myself and showed him into the hall after which I set up my research paper for the arts and sciences competition and sat down with some semi-precious stones to make some gifts for folks I knew.

 

He said hello to me after getting settled in and pulled up a chair near me, chatting with me as I worked at making a piece of jewelry. We talked about heraldry and medieval life.  It was a lot of fun, but I barely paid much attention in the moment...except that i found myself making excuses for why I was still with the alcoholic, as if some part of me knew how intensely attracted I was to him, how some part of me was waking up from a deep slumber I did not know I was in.

 

He invited me to watch him in the fencing tournement.  I did not accept right away, but about ten minutes later found myself wandering outside to the field where both heavy rattan fighters and rapier (fencing) fighters fought in small tournements.

 

This itself was out of character for me.  I never took much interest in any of our group's martial arts before that day.

 

Yet I stood out there in the cold and watched him fight, as if nothing could be more natural in the world than watch a friend on the field.  I applauded him when he did well and took interest even when he did not.

 

After the bout was over, he walked over to me and hugged me, sealing my fate for better or worse since that day.

 

As a Survivor of terrible violence, I have never been a particularly physically demonstrative person.  Touch for me is not instinctively positive.  By and large, I've shunned physical contact with others instinctively, needing to attend to my safety.

 

But when he touched me, my walls of Jericho fell as if nothing could be more natural in the world.  It frightened me.  No one had ever gotten beneath those defenses before, defenses so strong that when I was asked to lower them by a reiki healer trying to help me, it felt like I was scooping my heart out of my body with my mind.  That is how hard it is for me to completely lower my guard.

 

Yet he got there in a fraction of a second, terrifying and yet intoxicating me at the same time.

 

I did not know what to do except let him hold me as I had never been held before in my life. It was hard for me to relax and let him...but my instincts told me there was something safe, something right about his touch.

 

When it was time to go home, we exchanged email addresses and phone numbers and agreed to continue our friendship.

 

I was changed.  Unfortunately for me, I was not ready for that change which awoke parts of me I long thought were dead, parts of me I tried to make not so because I desparately needed someone to love me in an environment where I was never understood and no one ever wanted to understand, where I was expected to conform -- no matter the costs.

 

I tried so hard to be the someone else for these people -- and failed -- to the point where I did not know who I was.

 

He awoke my real self, the self that is genuine, that is free and good and pure.  He awoke the part of me that transcended blood and pain and tears.  He awoke my very soul.

 

But this was overwhelming to me.  I couldn't handle so much at the same time. I didn't know what was happening to me or why, much less describe anything accurately.

 

I was so overwhelmed that I failed to listen to him, that I was obsessed with him without having a clue why or how.  In hindsight, I behaved in a way that would terrify anyone, that would drive away anyone.  For who could possibly see past the beast and know the beauty in me that had tried my entire life to emerge from some prison?

 

I was such a beast, so crazy and obsessed to anyone looking at my words or behavior objectively, that he could not help reject me.  I was just too repulsive.  My life was not together.  I was a mess when he wanted perfect, he wanted a pretty exterior, the illusion of being "normal."

 

He rejected me.

 

Shortly thereafter he met the woman he would later marry.  But in the few days between meeting her and the final time he spoke to me, I behaved with insane jealousy.  With my senses completely out of control, I spoke without censorship things I perceived spiritually.  I recognized her soul too.  For, being around ten years younger than me, her last life overlapped with my present life -- I knew that soul when I was a little girl, a soul whose hatred of me was second to none.

 

I was overwhelmed by her presence.  That she would be my rival for his affections was more than my mind and soul could handle. Memories of my early childhood, long repressed, flooded me, along with their spiritual baggage.  I knew this soul, but I could not articulate back then anything that I understand today.  I spoke from long repressed memories of violence at her last incarnation's hands.  I articulated her hate for me in the presence of both this man and her.

 

It was the last straw for him.  He never spoke to me again after.  I was nothing more than a psychopathic beast.

 

I saw him once and tried to apologize; he would not hear me. I am too much a disgusting creature.

 

Lost in every way, I sought help, first with my local Unitarian church.  One of the pastors there helped me work through some issues.  I also went into therapy to deal with the long repressed memories that his presence had triggered.  After exhausting both options several months later, I attended a Samhain service in the Village (Manhattan) and met a reiki healer who offered his help -- for a fee.  I made an appointment and got help -- a spiritual intervention if you will -- that finally gave me answers I needed and freed me from the worst demons of my past.

That transformed my life in ways I cannot find the words for.  It healed me to the point where I could find myself and begin my journey from a place of strength.

 

But the damage with my soul mate remains. 

 

I tried to forget him, dating another man under the belief that nothing that was before mattered.

 

But then the dreams started this year, dreams reminding me of his existance, dreams torturing me once more.

 

I know in my heart that this mean really is my soul mate, the soul my heart and soul loves more than any other.

 

He never gave me the chance to get to know him much in his life, yet this feeling, this instinct remains.  I have not been the same since that kiss on the hand.  Probably to my detriment, he changed me that moment.

 

And so I walk alone, knowing that I have no influence on what he does, knowing that the odds that he will recognize my soul in this life cannot possibly be all that good.

 

For who can see beauty beneath a mask of pain?  Who can see my true heart when my life story has been so sad?  Who can see the talented writer, the intellect that shines brightly through my eyes?

 

I am no one to anyone...and am not likely to be in this life, especially not to him.

 

Laurel A. Rockefeller, author

The Great Succession Crisis

E-Book ISBN: 9781476243344
Print book ISBN: 978-1479144808

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