View this post on Instagram
“Karmic relationships burn hot and seem almost intoxicating at times, but the entire point of these types of relationships is to come into our lives, change us and then leave.” ~ Kate Rose
Have you ever experienced a bond that feels like an intense magnetic connection, with a turbulent twist? Like a raging fire burning out of control within you, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t extinguish the flames?
Me too, and whilst I thought deep within my heart it was some kind of soulmate connection, it seems the truth is it was a karmic connection.
Yes, they are similar but with two glaringly distinct differences.
A soulmate love is a slow burn. It lacks the heated passion and that magnetic energy that is so overwhelmingly addictive. It feels linear, in the way it follows a more set path. A smoother and safer path. Its wings flutter rather than suddenly soar, because those soaring wings can also quickly swoop. A soulmate doesn’t involve the constant storms of pain that come with a karmic connection.
A soulmate connection is far more predictable as it grows, whereas a karmic connection, whilst exciting, can also be fiercely unpredictable.
Often, this all-consuming passion and inferno of pain coincide at the same time. It is a heady mix, an emotionally perilous concoction, that will have you hanging on fervently, knuckles white, teeth clenched, because even though at times your heart will be breaking and your soul splintering, the depth of desire—energetically, physically, and spiritually—will leave you in a constant state of longing for their presence.
Karmic mates are our lessons. They come in to teach us, or us them. Or perhaps we teach each other. And whilst the ending can leave you battered, bruised, fractured, and in a pile of devastated rubble, if you’re able to see through the flames of pain, you will eventually see the gift they left you. What the connection taught you. And you will take that gift and start a journey of healing, change, and growth.
The karmic relationship is fraught with challenges from the start. They are usually not long-term, but despite the damage done to both, as they navigate this relationship, they don’t seem to be able to let go of each other. In fact, they often try several times, only to separate and come back together, because the loss of being apart is so overwhelming. It grips both people quickly, and before either know what’s happening, they are swinging haphazardly on a wrecking ball. From love, passion, hurt to pain. It’s messy. It’s exhilarating. And regardless of the typhoon you’ve found yourself in, it’s almost impossible to walk away. You are so inexplicably drawn to each other, it almost feels like you can’t live without them.
Of course, the truth is you can live without them, and most of us do move on, even if heartbroken, with a ton of work to do on ourselves. But the lessons are harsh and it’s no easy feat to forget them, and if I’m honest, a small piece of them remains forever with us.
This was my story. I had never felt such a pull toward anyone like I did him. It was all-encompassing and it blinded me to the obvious red flags. From the very start, there was a roller coaster of emotions, from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows and everything in between. He repeatedly told me he “needed me,” he couldn’t “do life without me.” He repeatedly built me up and broke me down. Over. And. Over. Again. He walked over any boundary I tried to have. But still I wanted him. Still I loved him. Still I craved him. And even if I tried to push him away, he came back. He always came back. That door just needed to be slightly ajar and he was walking back through it. And I let him. I always let him. Because he only needed to say “I love you” and any resolve I had would melt.
It’s not until I’d done the deep work on myself that I understood how unhealthily co-dependent that was. So many times my alarm bells went off and every single time, I silenced them. Ignored them. Convinced myself the great outweighed the sh*t. After all, didn’t the universe send him to me?
We seemed to be able to share things with each other on a deeper level than we had with other partners. The sexual chemistry was off the charts, and we couldn’t get enough of each other. It was like we finally found our perfect match. The energetic connection was so extreme, we both took it as a sign it was meant to be. We were meant to be.
And we were meant to be, but not for the reasons we thought or the longevity we thought.
We rocked each other to the core, on every level. There was little calm and little peace in our connection. We were wild. Untethered. There was a carnal need that could only be sated by each other. But there was also this constant gravitational pull toward each other that made little sense. And an ability to connect on an emotional level that seemed to transcend anything we had previously experienced. But it could not be sustained. We were hurting. I was breaking. I had become someone I did not want to be. I was drowning, and even though I loved him and he constantly told me he loved me, it was not enough. It was never going to be enough.
We ended. However, that pull was so strong we still continued regular contact for months. It slowed, but he still continued to reach out for over two years, even though he was committed to another. I went on a voyage into myself. I sought solace. I allowed myself to feel everything. I grieved. I didn’t move on with someone else, as I understood with such veracity that I needed to learn who I was. I needed to learn the lessons that karmic relationship showed me. I needed to change some unhealthy beliefs. I needed to connect to the part of myself that allowed me to fall into his arms and ignore every obvious warning sign. I needed to heal. I needed to grow. I needed therapy. And I needed to experience all of this alone.
They say karmic relationships come in to clear some karma from past lives. Possibly trauma bonded. Whatever your personal beliefs, it doesn’t matter, as the reality is these karmic relationships are definitely painful lessons for something. Walking away is almost impossible, even though the relationship is ultimately destructive.
The ability to clearly see the lessons is what allows you to transition and find your self-love, self-worth, and self-respect. It’s when you can’t see the lessons, or you refuse to acknowledge your own toxicity, that you remain stuck, stagnant, and become bitter. That you flit from one relationship to another. It’s always easy to blame someone else, and yes, at times, the other person may be more harmful, but you played a part—we always play a part. And the karmic magnetising of each other was to teach you something.
My experience is there are far more karmic relationships than we think, but many people convince themselves otherwise because of fear. Too often, the necessary lessons are not being learnt and that to me is the saddest part of all. To experience something that has such an intense capacity to fundamentally change and heal us is a gift, if we look at it the right way, with brutal honesty and awareness. Because the alternative is we turn the pain into anger, bitterness, and resentment, which does nothing but destroy our own soul.
He was the most beautifully passionate and magnetising man I’d ever met; he was also bubbling with his own issues and trauma, which he projected all over me. He brought me the highest of pleasure, which came with equal levels of pain. He gave me everything and took everything, all at once. He was a walking contradiction. And I fed into all of it. I drank in every part of him, like I was dying of thirst. He walked away and came back. He left and returned. He stopped calling, then called again.
Until one day, I didn’t just close the door. I dead-bolted it. And that day was the day I finally understood he was a lesson. We were a lesson.
And I was ready to listen, learn, and face my shadows. I was ready to discover who I really was.