It’s a question I get asked often. How do I know? Is this is my soulmate? There are probably as many answers to that question as there are askers. However, for me, part of what helped me define
my personal definition of a soulmate was the experience of the moment when I realized I was married to a man who wasn’t mine.
I will never forget it. It was February in Florida and the weather was perfect. We were sitting in the car at a beach, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. The scene in and of itself was nearly perfect. However, the energy between us was anything but perfect. It was strained, angry, and unsatisfied. I didn’t know exactly why, but I was already afraid. Then it happened. The man I was married to handed me a list he’d written on the back of a page he’d torn out of a text book. On that list were eleven things he wanted me change, about myself. They ranged from wanting my hair color to be different to wanting me to be a better housekeeper.
Sure, I had room for improvement in the housekeeping department. I still do. However, fundamentally, most of the items on that list were intrinsically me. I couldn’t change them and stay myself. I was young when that happened. I was only 23 and even at 23 I knew I would never be successful at being someone he wanted me to be and in that moment, I knew that marriage would not make it. He was my practice husband.
In a lot of ways it was easier, because he wanted me to be so completely different than who I was I knew it would never work. Sometimes it’s more subtle. It seems more doable.
I want you to be more punctual.
I want you to be more organized.
I want you to be more spiritual.
I want you to drink a little less.
I want you to have more vision for your future.
All of those things might seem like things worth striving for, and yet, wanting someone to be different demonstrates a lack of acceptance. When you are on the receiving end of someone wanting you to be different, it’s horrible. However, as horrible as it is, you’d be amazed how often someone will try to hammer themselves into a box they were never meant to fit into because someone else wants them to be someone they aren’t.
You’d think after my practice marriage ended, I’d have learned that lesson. It took me a little more practice. I spent years in and out of relationships trying to become the someone that other person would love enough not to leave.
Becoming something you aren’t to make someone else happy isn’t growth, it’s mutation.
We all know mutation isn’t usually very pretty.
On the other hand, there’s evolution.
When I met the man I’m married to I noticed something in me almost immediately. I noticed I was upleveling my game everywhere I could. I wanted to be a little more organized. I wanted to be a little more engaged. I wanted to be healthier. I wanted to be smarter. I wanted to be more grounded and centered. He never asked me to be different. In fact, he loved me just the way I was so completely I can honestly say I’d never felt so loved before. However, in the light of his appreciation I felt inspired to be better. I still do.
Why?
My husband sees something in me. He’s seen it from the day we met. In fact, the very fact that he sees it, makes it possible. My husband sees the very best parts of me, almost to the exclusion of the other parts. It’s nothing short of a miracle. He sees the best version of Lisa. It’s one of the greatest gifts anyone has ever given me, a window into to my best self – and because he can see it, I want to be it. I want to be the best I can be because of him. I have grown more as a person is the seven years I’ve known him than in all the years before him. I am constantly inspired to reach for my highest potential, because he sees it AND because he deserves it.
He has never once asked me to be different than I am – ever.
Very often when a relationship ends we start looking for who was right and who was wrong, a villain and a victim. We try to assign blame. We try to figure out what went wrong. Most of the time however, nothing went wrong. It was just the realization of two souls that they couldn’t change enough to stay together and be happy. In and of itself, there is nothing wrong with that. Two people who are meant to be together can be fully themselves pulled together by the energy of what’s possible.
The true measure of a relationship is who you are in it. Are you someone you like or not? Are you with someone who likes you, for real, the way you are? You want to be with someone who inspires you to be more of who you already are. When you find that, you know you’re home. When you are asking yourself the question, “Is this my soulmate?”, know this much, your soulmate does not want to change you. The words “soulmate” are very charged for many people, but if I had to define what a soulmate is, I would say, your soulmate is someone who recognizes your divine nature and therefore helps you to recognize it yourself.
