is the spark even real?

and a nervous system that could really use a reboot

and because words land differently when spoken, here’s a recording of me reading it.

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imagination is more important than knowledge.

for knowledge is limited, whereas imagination embraces the entire world.”
— albert einstein

but what if imagination becomes a survival skill that keeps you trapped in old patterns without you even noticing? there’s nothing quite like trying to create new relationships and new experiences while running old software that was written in a different lifetime for a you that has now become outdated.

do you ever get frustrated by how you keep bumping into the same life lessons no matter how much healing you’ve done? it’s like no matter how intentionally you’ve tried to shift out of old mindsets and into new ones, it feels like a broken record looping the exact same section over and over and over…

for most of my life, fantasy and imagination created the worlds i journeyed into because the world around me didn’t feel safe. it’s a form of dissociation related to intense trauma. it’s where my imaginary world became my bridge to the spiritual world, the liminal space and beyond, since this is where the energy stayed soft and where i didn’t have to brace myself, shrink or anticipate someone shifting into a scary monster instead.

because of a childhood shaped by the repressed memories of abuse, my inner world opened its doors when the outer world closed them, and fantasy became the only steady ground i had. i built whole landscapes inside myself because i needed somewhere to land and stay whole, and those imagined places mothered me in ways no one else could.

and because fantasy saved me once, it stayed. it followed me into adulthood the way anything life-saving does, and it started weaving itself into dating and friendships long before i realized what was happening.

it always amazes me how tiny interactions with near-strangers can bring my deepest healing work right up to the surface, as i jump to make connections that really aren’t there at all. it’s as if my old patterns rise like muscle memory, even when i’m certain i’ve outgrown them, because i once survived by not seeing the danger and pretending it was something different. that was all my three-year-old mind could do, and now i keep running the same circuitry, and continue to be an energetic match for the same kinds of wounded humans to re-enter my life in different bodies and different storylines.

the terrible brilliance of trauma is that it teaches your nervous system to recognize danger as familiarity and familiarity as safety, and the body will always move toward what it knows, even when what it knows is the very thing that harmed it.

trauma trains you to scan for the wrong signals and to attach to the wrong people, and it tricks you into believing that intensity is intimacy, that anxiety is chemistry, and that the butterflies are some kind of cosmic sign instead of your body remembering an old wound. the pattern keeps repeating, not because you’re unaware, and not because your aren’t trying hard enough to break the cycles, but because your system is still trying to live out a story it didn’t have the power to rewrite when you were too small to know any better.

so i’m learning that breaking trauma patterns isn’t so much about becoming more cautious, wise or strategic, it’s about staying present long enough to see what’s unfolding, instead of slipping into the fantasy dreams that once protected me.

in the dating arena it keeps happening where i meet a man and feel some tiny spark, the warmth in his voice, maybe the way he holds eye contact, or it’s how his picture made me feel, and my imagination immediately starts racing ahead.

whenever a man resembles someone from my past, or represents something from a dream, or from an important moment with finn that felt spiritual, i end up treating this resemblance like fate. i see timing and signs and hidden layers that aren’t actually there. and i realize now it’s because it comforted me to believe it meant something as my imaginary meaning helped me survive. but the hard truth i am now realizing is this:

resemblance is not resonance, resonance is not destiny, and fantasy is not destiny. these are each very different soul experiences.

so last night i had a phone conversation with someone i have been getting to know. i had been feeling the familiar fantasy starting to shape itself around him over the past few days, but then the energy tilted, not in a traumatic way, just in a very human awkward way, and instead of rushing to smooth it over or keep the magic alive, i felt myself pause. we had been flirting and texting earlier in the day and i found myself waking up from the pattern to realize that i did not need to over sexualize this connection like i usually do.

so i paused instead, and the pause was the miracle. it was a glimpse of true healing for me. yes it caused some awkwardness, and i may not hear from him again. but i wouldn’t want to, if stating a boundary around taking time to be intimate is a deal breaker for someone.

i remember finn’s and my couples’ therapist once calling the ability to stop and notice one’s behavior, ‘the sacred pause,’ as it’s when we give our brain a chance to catch up so we don’t react out of old familiar places.

this time i was somehow able to stay with the truth of the moment, rather than the story i had been starting to build. he said something that landed strangely, and instead of twisting myself into accommodation or slipping back into imagination, i just stayed in my body.

fantasy loosened its grip and reality stepped forward.

we continued to talk and the version of him i had already begun to imagine dissolved, leaving only the real man in front of me. and for the first time i didn’t try to merge the two, chase the dream-version, or breathe life back into the spark. i let things be what they were, even when they were flat and awkward and unenchanted. and instead of disappointment, i just felt peaceful clarity. it wasn’t loud and triumphant, it wasn’t even emotional, it was just steady in a way i’ve never felt before in these moments.

and this is teaching me something about what destiny actually feels like. it doesn’t feel like the enormous rush i always mistook for cosmic recognition, and it doesn’t feel like butterflies or prophecy or the overwhelming sense that something is meant to be.

destiny feels like a slow unfolding and a quiet yes that is much like a grounded curiosity that doesn’t need to sprint into the future. it is beginning to feel like being able to stay present with what’s real rather than clinging to what i wish it could be.

finding your soul destiny path feels like showing up honestly, without the scaffolding of fantasy holding the whole thing together.

so now i’m learning that the spark is only an invitation and not the story itself and the real story can only emerge after the fantasy falls away and the truth steps into its place. the fantasy must dissolve because it was never meant to carry my longing, that was just what i did to survive. but longing is no longer the compass i want to follow. i wish to replace longing for presence.

i am allowed to move into a life where the present moment matters more than the imagined one.

for so long i was searching for the man who matched the dream. i searched for the signs with the timing and an energy that echoed something ancient and magical, but now i see that the dream wasn’t pointing me toward a person. it was pointing me toward a feeling inside myself, a feeling of safety, wholeness and groundedness that i didn’t have when i was young.

this new ability to pause and discern is showing me a version of myself who can stay present, hold boundaries, and who doesn’t abandon herself for the promise of connection.

so maybe the man in my future dreams isn’t a man at all. maybe it’s the future me, the one i’m finally becoming, the one who doesn’t confuse intensity with intimacy, or familiarity with fate, and who finally comes to take me by the hand and walk together towards my own destiny.

last night gave me a new type of love story, it gave me back to myself.

and that feels like the beginning of something i’ve been trying to reach my whole life, a love that starts with me staying here, in my body, in the truth, in the moment, and trusting that whoever meets me here will meet the truest version i’ve ever been. i guess i’m just a messy work in progress and that’s ok with me.

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thank you for being here, it truly means the world. i love hearing your thoughts, if you feel called to comment.

i am a writer, speaker, and musician devoted to healing and embodiment. i share essays, poetry, and original music through venus consciousness. i’d love to walk this path with you. 💞