Tantric Dating
I will always get a reflection of my inner world in the realm around me. The 3D plane is a mirror, and my creative sexual energy makes the reflections sharper, brighter, and impossible to ignore.
Romantic relationship is an amplifier. It reveals the truth of a human — our strengths and shadows — and merges them with another to form a temporary metahuman. But is the resulting being one we want to embody?
We can’t bypass our trauma or our expectations that diverge from truth and natural law. The very things that block us from Eden — the pure state of peace — become most visible as we reach for bliss. And sexual, romantic energy is a direct line to Source. Zero point. Perfect pleasure. For many, sex is the only place they ever feel this presence, because they haven’t yet learned how to summon it elsewhere.
So there’s no way around it. You will attract the incarnated embodiment of your unintegrated self. You’ll be magnetized toward the one who can dance out your wounds and trauma loops with you, because your soul is always seeking wholeness. Always searching for truth. And your sexual partners? They’ve signed soul contracts with you to help you discover the condition of your inner polarity — your sacred feminine and divine masculine.
You can be dragged around by this, learning only through heartbreak and repetition. Or you can meet it with presence, working with it as a conscious practice.
I’ve seen it so often in clients: they leave one toxic relationship only to leap into another, still carrying the same unmet parts of themselves. Getting out is only half the initiation. The true work is coming back to center — acknowledging the part you played in magnetizing that dynamic, and taking time to shift it. Not performatively, but alchemically.
That frantic hunger to fill a hole with a person? That’s addiction. That’s the scream of the unmet self.
From a healed place, desire feels different. Neutral. Gentle. Natural. Peaceful. Slow. You’re no longer searching for a missing piece — you’re extending an invitation. A true partner folds into your world, enhances it, adds beauty and breath. They don’t drain or displace. They fit.
But the only way this can happen is if you know what your world is. If you’ve built it. If you know yourself deeply.
For me, that meant reckoning with every thread I had woven into the tapestry of my life. I’ve had light, sweet love. I’ve danced through foreign lands with beautiful beings. I’ve married a man in India and wandered the world in ecstatic devotion. I’ve also had a child with a violent alcoholic who threatened my life — and it took everything in me to get free.
To harness the fullness of my creative power and touch the meditative current of self-realization, I had to admit something radical: I created it all. Not from blame or shame, but from spiritual authorship. I had to move past my father’s story and into soul perspective — recognizing that my path, including my parents and pain, was chosen by something wiser within me. I had to see the heartbreak as holy instruction. The trauma as sculptor’s hands. And I had to believe — truly — that it was all here to awaken me for the benefit of the world.
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At one point, I had crafted a fairytale. I was the princess, adored and supported by wealthy lovers, told I’d never have to work again. But I couldn’t ignore the dissatisfaction. I hadn’t expressed myself fully. I hadn’t become what I came here to be. So the universe handed me contrast, handed me fire. I needed to taste survival mode, feel the pressure, get cut into diamond by real life. I had to polish every talent, every truth, every skill — until they gleamed. Until they could be of true benefit to others.
This doesn’t mean pressure must last forever. But a season of it? A wave of it? That’s part of the tantric path.
I had to sit through loneliness. Through the desperation of old programming — the belief that someone else was supposed to save me from myself. I had to kiss myself awake. I had to build the world I longed for. I had to become so valuable, so whole, so radiant in my offering that the universe couldn’t help but respond.
And if I was going to reflect a romantic counterpart, I had to choose: Do I reflect someone half-expressed, living in limbo, still shackled to self-doubt? Or do I reflect the one I know I am here to become?
It is possible to transform and express while in relationship — but it’s harder. The attention required by intimacy can cloud the mirror of the self. My most brilliant friends — revolutionary, creative women I’ve grown alongside — have one thing in common: they’ve spent long, sovereign seasons single. They’ve refused to dim their flame to stay partnered. They’ve chosen their soul over their storyline.
I knew I had to create and fully know my own world before I could let someone into it. I had to embody my sexual energy with sacred discipline — not give it away in the hopes of being seen.
And believe me, I tried. I opened up to connection again and again, only to watch it decay into the same old patterns. The same masked wounds. The same misalignments, because I still had places in me that weren’t fully alive yet.
So I did the work. I earned my doctorate. I wrote the books that lived in my chest. I moved to the land that sings to me. I built a business I love, a life that feels like art. I created a world for my son that nourishes us both. I cultivated deep friendships with amazing men — bringing masculine presence into my life in neutral, healing ways. I cleared out the fairytale poison. I rewrote the myth.
And yes, I live in a small town. Yes, I know the history of every man I might cross paths with. Yes, online dating sometimes feels like intellectual window shopping. But I also know that the right partner won’t be found by force. They’ll appear in perfect timing — because I am whole. Because my life is rich and true and full.
Yes, I still long to share the distilled electricity of my creative essence in divine partnership. But I also know that longing must remain sacred. Not desperate. Not hoarded.
The practice of non-grasping is tantric safety. It’s the space where God lives. And the truest connection — whether with a lover, the self, or the divine — can only happen from that place.
Present. Magnetic. Rooted in truth.
