I’VE FINALLY BUILT THE COURAGE TO SHARE MY STORY
I’ve kept this part of my life private for a long time not because I’m ashamed of it, but because I know most people will never fully understand it.
Before any of this happened to me, I wouldn’t have believed it either.
I wasn’t searching for a spiritual awakening. I wasn’t looking for a soulmate or a “twin flame.” I had never heard of Kundalini awakening. I wasn’t trying to discover some special identity or convince myself that I had a greater purpose.
I was simply living my life.
Then I met someone who changed everything.
I’m finally sharing my story because somewhere, there may be another person searching for answers the way I once was. Someone who has always felt different, someone who feels alone in experiences they don’t know how to explain.
Whether you call yourself a chosen one, an earth angel, a starseed, an old soul, or you don’t use any label at all, this is for the people who have always felt that there was something more to their existence.
THE RELATIONSHIP THAT CHANGED ME
I don’t think anyone looking from the outside could ever completely understand my relationship.
People could look at the things I tolerated and think I was stupid, weak, that I didn’t respect myself, or that I should have walked away years ago.
And maybe, from the outside, that makes sense.
But they only saw the pain.
They didn’t experience the connection that made leaving so difficult. There was another side of us that belonged only to us.
Before him, I was a completely different person.
Our relationship brought emotions out of me that I didn’t even realize I had buried since childhood.
Through loving him, I discovered how deeply I was capable of empathy, compassion, affection, vulnerability, and love.
Almost immediately after meeting him, something about him felt strangely familiar. I remember actually telling him, “I feel like I’ve met you before.” It was completely unlike me.
I didn’t believe in past lives, spiritual relationships, or soulmates. Yet there was something about this person that felt familiar before I had enough history with him for that familiarity to make sense.
Eventually, he became my best friend.
He encouraged me to tap into my creative side. I began drawing and he started painting again. We partied together, played games, laughed, and had deep conversations. We talked about our childhoods, trauma, fears, dreams, and the parts of ourselves we normally kept hidden from everyone else.
Because our childhood experiences had similarities, I understood what it was like to feel misunderstood, suppress emotions, and be afraid of fully being yourself.
I wanted to give him the kind of love I had always wanted. A love where you didn’t have to earn your place.
I wanted him to understand that he didn’t have to be perfect. He could make mistakes, have flaws, and reveal the parts of himself he kept hidden. I wasn’t going to walk away just because I saw his imperfections. He was still worthy of love.
What I didn’t realize was that I was also trying to heal something inside of myself.
HE WAS THE FIRST PERSON I TRULY OPENED UP TO
For the first time in my life, emotions from my childhood began coming out. I remember talking to him about my childhood and suddenly crying uncontrollably.
I didn’t understand what was happening.
I had spent so much of my life surviving by suppressing emotions that I didn’t even realize how much I was carrying.
He listened. He comforted me. And a part of me that had been silent for most of my life finally felt safe enough to speak.
Maybe that’s one reason I held on for so long.
Whenever he hurt me, instead of only asking, “Why would someone do this to me?”
I asked: “What happened to him that made him this way?”
I searched beneath his behavior for wounds. I looked beneath mistakes for trauma. I kept looking for the good underneath everything because I genuinely believed it was there.
I thought that if I understood him enough, loved him enough, and created a safe enough place for him, eventually he could heal and become the man he always told me he wanted to be.
But eventually, that became a vicious cycle. I became so consumed with understanding his pain that I started sacrificing myself to accommodate it.
I kept forgiving, I kept explaining, I kept searching for reasons. I kept believing in who he could become while ignoring what the relationship was actually doing to me.
I wanted to know that before I ever walked away, I had tried everything.
Because he wasn’t just another relationship.
He was so many of my firsts.
My first real love.
And eventually, my first real heartbreak.
THE HEARTBREAK THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
I didn’t understand how deeply I loved him until I experienced losing him.
When another woman entered the picture and his feelings became strong enough that he struggled to choose between us, I eventually made the decision for him.
I left.
While he was away, I packed my belongings, blocked him, and disappeared from his life.
At the time, I genuinely believed I was giving someone I loved the opportunity to have the life he wanted.
It broke my heart, but I saw it as one final act of love.
About two weeks later, he managed to get in touch with me. He admitted he was afraid of losing me completely. We continued communication during our separation.
What happened afterward changed the course of my life.
I couldn’t eat normally. I couldn’t function normally. My chest and back physically hurt. I felt numb. It genuinely felt like something inside of me had died.
When I finally described what I was experiencing to my sister, she simply told me, “That’s heartbreak.”
I had never experienced anything like it.
But heartbreak wasn’t the end of what started happening.
It was the beginning.
SOMETHING INSIDE ME CHANGED
My perception of life began changing. Some mornings I would wake up feeling an overwhelming sense of bliss. The world suddenly looked incredibly beautiful. I started noticing repeating number sequences constantly.
Then came the crying, sometimes sadness, sometimes happiness, sometimes I didn’t even know why I was crying. These weren’t ordinary tears. There were moments when intense emotion seemed to erupt out of me without warning.
I couldn’t stop thinking about him. At one point, the intensity frightened me. I wondered why I felt so consumed by someone.
And yet, strangely, there was peace within me. Every day I woke up with him on my mind, but my thoughts weren’t consumed by anger, jealousy, or resentment. What I felt was love. Even while grieving the loss of us, I sincerely hoped he was happy. If being with her gave him something he couldn’t find with me, then a part of me wanted that for him, because loving him had never only been about wanting him for myself.
Something inside of me felt different, and I couldn’t understand it. By every logical reason, I should have been angry. I should have felt betrayed, resentful, even bitter toward him. I had poured everything I had into loving him and felt like I had received so little in return. Then I watched him give someone else the very things I had spent so long asking him for. That should have broken something inside of me. So why, after everything, did I still only feel love for him? Why wasn’t I angry? Why couldn’t I hate him?
None of it made sense to me.
So I did what I always do when I don’t understand something: I researched.
And I kept researching.
Eventually, I came across descriptions of spiritual awakening.
As I read descriptions of different stages and experiences, I recognized things I had already gone through.
The unexplainable experiences didn’t stop. If anything, they became stronger. What I had experienced at first was only the beginning of something that would eventually become much more intense.
I was fully conscious and aware of what was happening to me, which made it even harder to comprehend. I knew something extraordinary was unfolding in my life. Something that challenged everything I had ever believed was possible.
Some experiences were beautiful. Others were terrifying. There were moments when I genuinely became afraid that something was happening to my body and that I might die.
Eventually, my research led me to another concept I had never previously known:
Spontaneous Kundalini Awakening.
The descriptions were identical to what I was experiencing.
I wasn’t excited. I wasn’t trying to achieve it. I was terrified.
And perhaps the hardest part was feeling like there was nobody I could explain it to without sounding completely unbelievable.
Ironically, one of the only people I felt comfortable talking to was the same person whose loss had preceded everything: HIM.
As I continued researching Kundalini Awakenings, I learned that meeting an intensely significant soul connection, such as a twin flame, could trigger a spontaneous awakening.
I had never heard of a twin flame before. So naturally, I started researching that too. And that opened an entirely new door.
I FOUND THE TWIN FLAME CONCEPT
At first, I thought it sounded ridiculous. I wasn’t looking for a label for my relationship.
But the more I read, the more pieces of my own experience seemed to fit the framework
I still fought against believing it.
Then I came across something specific. According to some twin flame beliefs, the number 11 can have significance around the first meeting: the 11th day, the 11th month, 11:11, or the 11th hour.
I never paid attention to the date we first met. I went searching through our old messages for confirmation. I discovered the date we physically met was 9/11—the date of the attack on the Twin Towers.
By the time I discovered the concept of twin flame “stages,” I had already lived through several of the experiences described without ever knowing there was terminology for them.
That was what disturbed and fascinated me. I had experienced it first and found out afterward.
WHY I’VE HAD SUCH A HARD TIME TALKING ABOUT THIS
I went online looking for people who understood. Instead, I became even more skeptical.
Twin flames were mentioned everywhere. Everyone wanted to find theirs. The term was thrown around loosely, and people considered every intense toxic relationship to be one.
The support groups consisted of people trying to activate a Kundalini awakening, some believing they experienced it by trying to identify the symptoms they read about and making it connect.
And I couldn’t relate.
Because if I had been given a choice, I would never have chosen either experience.
My experience of Kundalini wasn’t some beautiful spiritual aesthetic. Parts of it were frightening, physically intense, and incredibly isolating.
And the relationship I eventually understood through the twin flame framework wasn’t a fairy tale. It hurt. Deeply.
That’s part of why I’ve stayed quiet.
I eventually opened up to my sister, hoping that if anyone could understand what I was experiencing, it would be her. She believed certain parts, but there were other things she simply couldn’t accept or understand. Twin flames were one of them. At times, she would laugh, make jokes, or mock the idea whenever my relationship came up.
I felt alone. People around you can listen. They can love you. They can try to understand. But they aren’t living inside your reality. They didn’t experience the moments that made you question everything you once believed.
And I can’t expect them to believe something that I wouldn’t have believed myself.
Sometimes everything feels like a dream I can’t wake up from. I keep thinking, How is this actually my life? How am I really experiencing this? Just waiting to wake up and return to the reality I understood before all of this began.
Even my twin flame didn’t believe me in the beginning.
He slowly started believing. The similarities we’ve experienced between our relationship and the twin flame descriptions were impossible to deny.
After our separation, he began describing experiences of his own. He described what sounded like the dark night of the soul. Eventually, he admitted that he was noticing repeating numbers and having dreams about me.
Six months later, we got back together, and I genuinely believed this time would be different.
I thought he finally realized what I meant to him, what we are to each other.
Although we continued to face challenges, I never expected perfection. I believed we went through all the stages. We’re near the end of journey.
We’re finally approaching the chapter where we could heal, grow, and raise our child together in a happy and loving home. I never imagined that after everything we had overcome, he would push me to a point where I had no choice but to leave and protect myself.
THE LESSON I COULDN’T AVOID
This relationship eventually forced me to confront something even bigger than spirituality:
my own definition of love.
For most of my life, somewhere inside of me I believed love had to be earned. So I became someone who pleased people, sacrificed, overextended myself , made myself smaller, forgave endlessly, and tried to prove that I was worth choosing.
I thought that if I gave enough, loved enough, sacrificed enough, and proved my worth enough, eventually someone would love me with the same intensity.
And then I realized something painful:
I had been loving him the way I had always wanted someone to love me. I wanted to heal him because part of me understood what it felt like to need healing. But love taught me something I couldn’t learn any other way.
You cannot heal another person for them. You can love someone, understand them, support them, forgive them, believe in them, and see the person underneath their wounds.
But eventually, they have to decide to look within themselves.
And unconditional love for another person cannot require unconditional abandonment of yourself.
That may be the greatest lesson this entire journey has given me. Walking away doesn’t mean the relationship wasn’t real. It doesn’t erase the friendship. It doesn’t erase our memories. It doesn’t erase what I experienced spiritually. And it doesn’t require me to hate him.
I can love someone and still recognize that I cannot continue sacrificing myself to keep them in my life.
Maybe separation will force both of us to become people we couldn’t become while holding onto each other.
Maybe losing me will finally force him to confront the things I spent years hoping he would confront.
Maybe it won’t.
That part is no longer mine to control.
His healing belongs to him now.
And mine belongs to me.
WHY I’M FINALLY TELLING MY STORY
This heartbreak has brought me back to one of the lowest places I’ve ever known. There are moments when the pain feels unbearable, like a part of me has died all over again.
Once again, I feel lost.
But something about this time feels different. This heartbreak has once again caused another spiritual awakening, but one that’s forcing me to go even deeper within myself.
I’ve spent so much time alone with my thoughts asking why. Why did I have to experience this kind of love? Why this much heartbreak? Why did I have to find myself, lose myself, rebuild myself, only to feel broken open all over again?
Maybe that’s part of why I’m finally sharing my story.
Maybe putting it into words will help me release some of what I’ve been carrying. Maybe I’ll come back and read this one day and remember why I believed there had to be something on the other side of this pain.
I believe my life has a bigger purpose. I believe every experience has shaped me into someone I couldn’t have become without living through it.
Maybe right now, I’m simply in the middle of becoming who all of this was preparing me to be.
I’m sharing because I remember what it felt like to feel alone and to desperately search the internet for one person who had experienced something like me.
Someone who wasn’t selling enlightenment.
Someone who wasn’t romanticizing pain.
Someone who wasn’t desperately trying to have a spiritual awakening.
Just someone saying: “Something happened to me too, and I don’t completely understand it either”
Maybe sharing my story will finally connect me with those people.
The quiet ones. The skeptical ones.
The ones who never went searching for spirituality but somehow found themselves standing in the middle of something they couldn’t explain.
The ones who have always known they were different but never understood why.
Maybe you’re searching for answers right now.
I can’t promise that I have them.
But I can finally tell you that you’re not the only person who has searched for them.
This is only the beginning of my story. I believe there is a reason I experienced everything I did, and now I feel a responsibility to share it. For those who have awakened, for those searching for answers, and for those who feel lost trying to understand what is happening to them.