I didn’t follow a handbook.
There were zero checklists, no confirmations of the journey I would travel.
No mirrored blog posts promising union if I just kept my vibration high or waited long enough.
What I had to do, you may ask… Is not for the faint among this journey.
I shed it all; purged, walked through awakening after awakening to find the center point of my being, of who I truly was.
Did it come with a side mission of me vomiting in a bag on a side street in Seattle?
Absolfuckinglutely.
I had to follow sensations.
Memory.
Resonance.
The way time folded when I met those eyes, and was no longer allowed to shrink in his presence.
The way silence could become an entire symphony when Dominus entered the room.
The way I learned not to chase, not to plead, but to listen;
To awaken my core gifts and rattle the cages of illusion.
Others may chase the twin flame myth through cycles of obsession, disillusionment, and longing.
I walked it barefoot, through fire, threadwalks, and spiritual encounters no one prepared me for;
By initiation rites of meeting my inner child, allowing my masculine in to guide, and the embodiment of my feminine.
When dancing with shadows became the key to unlocking these trials; and burning everything in their wake.
Even in the ash, I remembered to breathe.
Not everything that burns is meant to die.
Some things ignite so they can be reborn on your terms.
And somewhere between the cough of a tuning fork
And the hum of the rod in my hand, I realized:
This wasn’t about finding someone.
It was about remembering who I’ve always been.
If they remembered me along the way, then they take
The journey themselves;
To understand it’s not cohesive, but collaborative.
I am not here to take the throne.
We align our mission of collective awareness.
I do not have to accept a wounded masculine.
Aligned paths walk in the knowing of choice.
This was never a toxic love story; it was the battle
Between ego and evolution.
People need to heal and grow.
And I did.
A flame doesn’t chase its match.
It simply burns-
Until everything not meant to hold it turns to ash.
This is not a love story.
It’s what happens when you walk in open and stand
Tall in your becoming.
When you do not crumble under pressure;
Rather, you embody it.
Fully.
Truly.
Yours.
Comments ()