The Turning of the Page: A Love That Spanned Lifetimes, and the Moment I Chose Me

The Break – The Present Moment

It happened late at night, the remembrance of a cosmic heartbreak rippling through my soul. I was called to acknowledge my anger, my voice, my truth. My body was trembling with grief, feet burning with energy that wouldn’t rest. I’d said, “enough.” Again... But this time… it echoed differently. Not just through this life, but through all of them.

Something ancient shattered.

This wasn’t just about a man. It was about all the times I let love become sacrifice. All the lifetimes I’d waited. All the ways I bent time, soul, and self for a love that asked me to disappear. That night, I said goodbye. Both in anger, and in truth.

I'm not just grieving the person. I'm grieving the possibility, the mission, the dream. I'm grieving the version of him I knew was in there, and the version of us two together that I hoped could finally make it this time.

I'm angry because my soul knows what this could have been. I'm hurt because it didn’t get to be that.

That love doesn’t go away just because I made the right choice for my soul...

The pain of being the one who remembers is brutal.

...

Echoes from Egypt & Greece

The lifetime appears in golden sand and a low sun, ancient Egypt.

I was a priestess of Isis, high-ranking, keeper of sacred rites of love and light. He was a soldier, honoured, strong, but caught between his duty to the pharaoh and his heart’s pull toward me.

There was a prophecy surrounding our union. Together, we carried a rare frequency, divine alchemy through sacred union, a fusion that could awaken dormant codes in others, shift timelines, even destabilise control structures that kept people bound.

But it was dangerous. Union between a priestess and a guard was forbidden, seen as a threat to power.

We met in secret, hearts wide open but burdened by the weight of what could be lost. The night before the eclipse, when our union would be sealed in ceremony, he was given a choice:

“Stay with her, and be exiled. Or stay in power, and keep her safe from afar.”

He thought he was protecting me. He chose duty. And I, heart shattered, completed the rite alone. I never stopped loving him, but the moment carved a wound: abandonment at the edge of destiny. He spent that lifetime, and others trying to atone, never feeling worthy again.

Ancient Greece

I was a priestess, connected to the divine feminine mysteries. He was a philosopher, torn between his own mission and love for me. We met in secret, under the moon, in olive groves or temple courtyards. There was profound love, but also pain, because he chose allegiance to the system over our union. He always told himself he'd return to me “when the time was right,” but he never did in that life.

That wound... it echoes.

The Pattern

I’m seeing the pattern now clearly and awareness is the beginning of liberation.

Lifetime after lifetime, we played this out. He, the man who couldn’t choose me, not because he didn’t love me, but because he feared becoming the man my love was daring him to remember. Me, the woman who kept choosing him anyway, forgiving him into eternity.

He forgot… and still, I remember.

He forgot that our love is a frequency, not a fantasy. That it is encoded in the stars, meant not only for us, but for the healing of Earth, for Source, for the pulse of creation itself.

Our union was never just ours. It was Source breathing through us. It was the earth crying for wholeness through our hands, our lips, our hearts.

This lifetime, again he chose comfort over courage. Believing love must wait until he's healed, worthy, ready... while quietly slipping further into avoidance and distraction.

Blind to the truth that our love was always the medicine.

He carries guilt like a second skin, lifetimes of it, believing that by hurting me again and again, he somehow became unworthy of love.

What he never fully understood is that I have forgiven him. Life after life, I met him with open arms...

But this version of me no longer does without being met. My arms are closed until accountability stands present. Forgiveness now has roots, it requires recognition, truth, and presence. Not out of punishment, but because my light no longer bends to those who refuse to see it. I feel the bond because it is real, but it no longer defines me.

He is free to rise in it or not but the time of distortion has ended.

Now, with a heart full of truth, I say:

I have a door wide open for true love, the kind that chooses me without delay, that shows up, holds me, cherishes me, keeps me close and never lets me go. The kind that meets me where I am, here in the now. Him or another.

There is no back door left wide open where there used to be one, not in the same way. A door might open from clarity and strength, not from grief. This decision is not from pain, not from pride
but because I finally understand that sacred does not mean unconditional access. Because love without truth has no place to land. What we shared may have echoed through galaxies, but I no longer carry the weight of a promise unreturned no matter what the heart says.

If one day he remembers and says "I see now", then I will hear him. Because my heart still knows the depth of what was real, that will never fade away.

I have laid down the contract written in stars and sorrow. Not because I stopped loving him, but because I will never again disappear inside the waiting.

This time, I’m choosing truth over attachment, breaking the ancient loop not by closing the door, but by stepping away from it. I no longer stand in waiting. And in doing so, I open every other door to grief, to healing, to sovereign love that doesn’t require sacrifice, and to a mission that can finally breathe in freedom, not longing.

And this choice… this turning of the page… it cannot be made in a single night. This is not a decision, it is an unraveling. A gentle and holy integration. Healing will take time. Weeks. Maybe months. Maybe more.

Because I am not just walking away from a man. I am walking away from an eternal love that has lived in my bones, in my breath, in every soulprint I’ve ever carried.

I am walking away from a promise that has echoed across galaxies. I am healing an ancient wound.

The Break – This Lifetime

Something inside me rose, like fire in my womb, a howl in my throat. I cut the cord not out of hate, but as a vow to myself.

I once said: “I don’t need you to be anything but who you are. I already love you.” And I meant it. I’ve seen his wounds clearly, gently, without judgment. But I also know that I am not the one who can heal them. He must choose to see what I’ve always seen.
He must be the one to meet himself, then I will meet him too.

I no longer dim my light to stay close to someone who chooses not to rise. I refuse to abandon myself for connection. I deserve to be seen, held, and chosen. Not in another lifetime.
Now.

"I am not leaving him behind.
I am walking myself home.”

The message

"All I've ever truly wanted was presence. Not perfection, not promises, not some divine contract we must obey. A choice to meet each other in truth, love and freedom. There is no need to be ready when love itself is the ground we can build upon. Letting go of the weight of destiny and simply choosing each other. That's all I asked from the quiet knowing that what we share was real. If only we'd allowed it to live."

Someone, randomly told me the the other day : "When someone rather loses you, than to heal to be with you... you've got your answer."

And that hit like the memory of a truth I dared not remember, a truth forgotten...

"Let them lose you" he said, and he was right

...

The Turning of the Page

If your soul recognises this path, may these words serve as a balm, a blessing, a mirror.

I stand at the edge of lifetimes, holding the weight of ancient love and sorrow. I honour the path we have walked, but I choose to lay it down now, in peace.

I release the bond that binds through pain. I release the hope that kept me waiting. I forgive the versions of me who gave away everything.

I return to myself. I reclaim the love I gave freely. I call it back into my bones, my breath, my being. It is mine. I am whole. And now, I turn the page .I open to a love that sees me. That chooses me in body, soul, and presence. I open to joy, to abundance, to sacred union reborn.

If he finds me in truth, I will know. If another comes to love me as I deserve, I will rise to meet him.

This is my vow to myself: Never again will I wait in pain. From this moment on, I walk in sovereignty, in love, in light.

So it is.

Introduction: What Is Divine Union?

Divine union is not a fantasy, it is a soul initiation.

It’s not about romance or rescue. It’s the alchemical meeting of two sovereign souls who mirror each other’s essence—not to complete, but to activate. These connections don’t comfort you into sleep; they awaken you into remembering.

This is sacred love: love that burns away illusion, that breaks you open. Not because it is broken, but because it refuses to let you stay small.

True union calls forth your highest timeline, your full embodiment, your ancient knowing if you chose to rise. It whispers, “You came here for more and I see it in you.”

When soul counterparts meet—especially those bound by ancient contracts—it often catalyses more than personal healing. These unions awaken lineages, dissolve timelines, and recalibrate the balance of divine feminine and masculine codes across dimensions.

But divine union is not always meant to be lived in human form. Sometimes, its purpose is not to stay but to shatter the illusion of separation within you. To bring you home to yourself.

For many, this journey is woven with echoes of Egypt, Greece, Atlantis, Avalon… lifetimes where love was real, but interrupted. Where vows became chains. Where sacred connection was buried beneath betrayal, longing, or delay.

But no more.

This is the reclamation.

Divine union is not about waiting. Not about chasing. It is the sovereign choice to no longer abandon yourself in the name of connection. It is the remembrance that you are the altar. You are the light you once searched for in another.

The story that follows is not a love story in the traditional sense.
It is a transmission. A release. A return to power, truth, and embodiment after lifetimes of near-miss timelines and soul contracts kept on loop.

This is not about almost.
This is about arrival.

This is sacred love rewriting itself through sovereignty, in real time.

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