the rebound soulmate

I’ve been the rebound chick plenty of times.
But never in succession—at least, not until I started dating within the spiritual community.

The last man I dated was four months single. The guy before him? Not even weeks.

I fell hard for the illusion that speed and recklessness equal passion and fate. The toxic twin-flame narrative tells us that if it’s "meant to be," context won't matter.

It always matters.

The root of every argument was either their resentment that I wasn't their ex or mine that they weren't my prince charming.

I am never again dating a man who is still in the "seeking" phase of his spiritual journey.
You know the type: moving from country to country, sitting with different plant medicines, chasing his next epiphany, or looking for "home" in the yoni of every spiritual woman he meets.

For him, a woman isn't a partner; she’s just his next peak.
And you don't even realize you were the engine until you burn out.

Partnership is not meant to be a shortcut through the human experience.

Real intimacy includes boredom, stagnant seasons, and the hard work of cultivating your own inner resources.

But I'm seeing too much of that work get traded for idealistic narcissism.

I've been burned by my own fire enough times to know that it's fucking intense.

Now, it leaves no cover for "lovers" who can't tell the difference between an altar and a pitstop.