Are you wondering how do we know who we belong with? Or whether we’re meant to stay with the person we’re with now? The answer is much simpler than you’d think.
When it’s right
It’s not at all difficult, headache-causing, mind-twisting and nerve-wracking. It’s not something that requires too much thinking, not even (much) thinking about whether the person we’re with is right for us.
Trust me on this one. We, women, have one ability that’s close to a superpower. And the superpower is called intuition. This intuition has an amazing quality of telling us how things are and we see them clearly for what they are. No bullshit.
This intuition aka the gut feeling or the inner voice is clear. It requires absolutely no mind involvement — known as overthinking, analysing, rationalizing or whatnot.
So, if you truly want to be with somebody now and till the rest of your life, you know it. It’s that simple.
You know it because it’s clear as that. Clear as a blue sky on every sunny day in LA. Clear as a crystal. It’s clear to your gut, to your heart and even the mind as it doesn’t even want to get to work — thinking ‘why you should be with this person’.
If you know, you know. However, if you don’t know, that’s where an issue hides. Because if you don’t know, you’ll invest so much effort, time, energy, maybe even money to manipulate your senses into knowing. And perhaps, knowing that the wrong person is right for you.
You’ll spend hours or your time and energy conversing with friends, colleagues, your family or people you just met about your relationship — trying to persuade yourself how right it is for you. Because you don’t know. And not knowing means it’s not there — you know deep down that it’s wrong.
Then you’ll pay psychologists, therapists, astrologists, numerologists, oracles, card readers, healers and some other mediums, to get further support when your own one runs out. Just so you can keep on staying with who you don’t belong with (a bit) longer.
And why would you do it? Maybe for the same reason that most of us do. The reason why I’ve done it. The irrational, however very common reason that ‘you want it to work, you want to control it and make it happen, finally’. Even if it’s not meant to.
And you want it to happen, because you want to experience the unconditional love-you-forever relationship now. Now, regardless of what’s the capacity of the relationship you’re in, the partner you’re with and, that of your own.
When it’s not right
Here’s my story about when it’s not right — what happened, how it happened and what I’ve learned through being with a person who wasn’t meant for me.
I got together with a guy who I wasn’t attracted to in the first place. We didn’t experience any mind-blowing, spiritual or intellectual conversations that’d make my soul jump every second and make us bond on a deep soul level upon a first meeting.
What happened between us was just casual. The guy who looked at me from across the bar in a ‘spiritual social’ gathering and who I happened to look back at, and as he liked to refer to — ‘smile back at’. He came up to me for a chat, and I reluctantly — probably because my intuition was already active — responded back. The chat turned into somewhat of a conversation at the end of which we exchanged phone numbers. I was new to London at that time and he happened to be the very first decent looking guy (who wasn’t undressing me with his eyes and words both) I ended up chatting with.
The phone numbers exchange turned into a date. A date turned into a series of dates that turned into a friendship. A friendship, because I made it clear to this sweet but not my type, somehow sadly nostalgic and clumsy guy (who spilt a beer on himself during first half-n-hour of our date), that I don’t see him as a man to be with, but a non-date male friend. I know that this statement hurt him a lot. But I also do know now that this statement was produced by my little fairy power called the intuition.
However, to make a super long story as short as possible, two years after, I anyway started a relationship with a man my intuition rejected upon our first meeting — with repetitive signs sent my way all along the way.
It turned out, a few months to our relationship (long-distanced as I was based in Central Europe and him in the UK) that my very decent, romantic and dreamy boyfriend — let’s call him Steven, had a good reason to seem so sadly nostalgic and emotional. He was married and had a child — a little two-year-old toddler he’s not told me about when we met or when our interaction turned friendship — that being over two years of us knowing each other. His wife was only expecting when he approached me in the cellar bar in Farringdon.
On top of that, that time around, he was somewhat separating with let’s call her Emily as the lady broke the news to him that the baby they were working to make and that she was now expecting, was not going to be his baby. Emily introduced her husband to the fact that she’s pregnant by saying that she’s expecting a baby with somebody else, meaning that she’s having an affair.
Stephen was shocked, broken, hurt. Probably no words could describe the pain one goes through when they realize they’ve been cheated upon and their partner (they’re married to) is pregnant with another man.
At his worst, Steven bumped into me. And as he later on referred to it, I supposedly saved his life back then. I was young — hippie-like, full of ideals, hope, passion for life and inspirational quotes I recited enthusiastically to everyone. I must have given Steve a reason to look at the bright side of life, and maybe even acknowledge that there was one. We spent many evenings together discussing life, arts, philosophy, spirituality, events and ideas, although I was probably the one who spoke the most.
I saved a part of him and we stayed in touch as friends, although I had no idea about what was happening in his personal life (marriage, separation, wife’s pregnancy). Upon his son being born and a confirmation that he was the father, Steven and Emily agreed to stay together to look after their child. And then, a year after, one late night, Steven and I randomly got to chat together. That late-night turned into many late nights of addictive passionate messaging, sharing fantasies and dreaming together.
I don’t even know how, but from one day to another, we were suddenly a long-distancing couple. And from a month to another, we were spending two weeks together in a holiday resort in my home country. Six months to the relationship through, we were separating as I felt — intuitively, that something wasn’t right. I knew this man was hiding something serious from me and in my dreams, I’ve seen his baby cry and a woman hold both him and the baby. I ended it as my mind, heart and soul weren’t at peace and couldn’t take the tension this relationship got me into. But my love for him wasn’t over yet.
We got to talk again a few months after, and he eventually — after significant resistance, shared his story with me. I was speechless — mesmerized, upset, sad, angry and hurt as well as feeling somewhat empathetic and sorry for him. I still felt in love with him and was drawn to his affection, our connection and unhealthy love.
Just for the record, he’s not left his wife because of me and us, rather because their relationship was still dysfunctional and Emily was now again pregnant. Only not with Steven as they had no intimate relationship, but the guy she had an affair with and believed she was expecting her first baby with. (Yeah, if you’re shaking your head, you’re certainly not alone.)
We spent a year in a long-distance relationship to test the waters before I’d move countries to live with Steven. A month before my move, he proposed to me during our weekend getaway in Paris — he’s still been married, so it couldn’t count and our engagement didn’t last. For the record, I said ‘Yes’ although I didn’t feel it. I said yes because I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t want to hurt him by saying no.
I couldn’t get through the fact (or the mind-fuck) that I thought Steven was somebody who he wasn’t. In my mind there was a shattered picture of a single man I used to go out with (thinking what a young bachelor) mingled with the one of a father with father’s responsibilities. His baby turned out to be a child with special needs that could never truly accept me and I can’t blame him as he’s very intuitive and must have felt that we two were not meant to be.
I couldn’t process his dual life, the lies and missing pieces to our relationship foundation. I couldn’t trust his motives of getting together with me — was it out of desperation or desire to move on, rather than love? Probably because I couldn’t trust my own motives either.
We lasted for about five years. Until there was not much left to give and we both agreed to finish this pursuit of asininity.
It’s obviously not all bad, nobody would be in such a bond. But in a relationship that’s not meant to last — love, understanding, joy, happiness and self-growth come with a price.
When I look back at whether I regret having this relationship, the answer is clear — I don’t. I needed this experience because I had to learn a lot about myself, my self-value, personal boundaries, wants, needs and desires as well as the healthy love and opposed to the unhealthy one. Would I have the above mastered, I’d not have accepted this relationship.
But if I have to ask myself whether it was worth to invest so much effort — time, energy, feelings and so much of myself into what I knew within the first fifteen minutes of meeting the guy that I do not want to have, I know it wasn’t.
Facing our fears
Looking back at how scared I felt to leave the person who I loved however who was not meant for me and who I intuitively knew I am not supposed to be with — I find it ludicrous now. I was scared to make the move and act upon it. First, I believed we were meant to be together and that I couldn’t love anybody quite the same way. Later, I thought that even if us together and the relationship is crap, at least we’ve got each other. Then, I worried that if I leave I won’t find anyone better that I could be happy with.
Eventually, all the fears I could use were exhausted. And I self-coached myself into taking a leap.
I understood one life-changing wisdom which is that we need to base our decisions not on what we fear, but what we love and want to see in our lives.
I was so scared while sticking with my monkey brain, thinking how dependent I am on this relationship or how difficult this step would be that it completely blurred my vision. Unsubstantiated worries put aside, there was absolutely nothing scary or difficult about it. I just had to leave.
Breakups are tough, but what is tougher than going through the breakup is staying in a relationship that is not right and doesn’t make us happy.
I experienced a healthy love that blew me off my feet thirteen years back and I still remember how it felt. When I think back of that time, I still feel that love. And I know that this is how the love feels.
And I am not settling for anything less than that. I know it could take a while, that I may need to be patient, wait for it and work for it to manifest it into my reality. But I know it’s there somewhere. The love I am looking for. And the person I am looking to spend the rest of my life with. My person. The man who’s meant for me is there somewhere — he has to be, because I haven’t met him yet and I do know that I can’t miss him as nobody can take away from me that what is truly meant for me. The same way that what is not meant for me cannot stay or last. And if it’s not determined for me, it would never give me happiness.
I imagine him going through the life’s duality the same way as I am. I trust he’s also taking his life lessons to grow, expand and forward on the path of learning so as I am. He’s working his way to find me too.
And I am pretty confident that once we cross our paths, we’ll both recognize each other. The same way we recognize our face in the mirror. We’ll know that it’s us two who are supposed to be together — having a healthy relationship and tons of love to share with each other.
We’ll both feel it deep down. The intuition, remember.