I became quite aware two days ago that bypassing is not actually conceivable.
We use labels like spiritual bypassing, and people may appear to be in denial. Often, what’s really happening is self-protection.
When I was young, I had experiences I don’t remember. The majority of my childhood, and even parts of adulthood, are a blur if not totally blocked out. It could have been that I didn’t feel safe and lived primarily in the higher realms of my soul, where I felt most comfortable.
I remember the near-death moments. I remember the moments of clarity when I knew I could have died. And recently, a person of significance from my past re-entered my life, and he described my apartment from years ago in detail. I could recall the space clearly. The rest of the memories remain mostly blank.
The Reconnection
This significant person returned to my life through a dream.
I reached out on LinkedIn without expectation, simply sharing what I had seen and felt. It was an uplifting dream in that he was living a great life. He responded with warmth and suggested a call to catch up. Two weeks later, we spoke, and the conversation felt like a soul hug.
Unexpectedly, he followed up excitedly that he would see me before I left on my next trip. He asked me to keep a day and night open during the holidays. I paused my holiday travel plans and stayed. I knew the timing mattered, and I felt that if I didn’t meet up now, it would never happen.
The Emotional Turn
Our date came, and after he left my home, I felt lucky, a “chef’s kiss,” and gratitude. The next morning came an emotional hangover, and I felt rage rise inside me.
Here is what surfaced.
What Was Revealed
He told me he joked about my texts with an ex. How they laughed when I wrote, “My space is sacred.” Even though he replied, “I am a believer in sacred.”
This, right here, is why sensitive souls often stay introverted or closed off. Most people do not understand energetic nuance and, instead of seeking to understand, they mock.
He also told me that when I was younger and set out on my path in real estate, he hoped I wouldn’t make any money because he believed my destiny was bigger.
I felt, in real time, what a negative projection from another person can feel like in the body.
One does not cancel out the other. Someone can succeed financially and still feel called to something more.
What struck me most, though, was how easily he spoke about details of his business partner, old friends, and past relationships, all shared without hesitation or apparent concern for discretion. It became clear that anything I might share with him could just as easily become someone else’s story later. I realized the boundary leak wasn’t just with me; it was the way he moved through the world.
The Meeting
After many texts about how monumental our meeting was, texts he initiated, he arrived hungover, not feeling well, and with a nighttime exit strategy already in place.
Internally, before I said anything out loud, I thought, This motherfucker. And then I shared with him how I felt.
I told him how I prepared and cleaned my home for him, and paused holiday travel for his visit. And, ‘You are sovereign and have your own agency. You’ll do what you want,’ I said.
From the moment he stepped inside, I felt disrespect toward my home and neighborhood. He remarked on the brand names of my appliances, commented on the area, and asked about the community’s makeup.
Even small conversations carried a critical edge. He debated whether to drive or take an Uber because of traffic, then complained about my location being closer to the ocean and therefore more congested.
It felt less like conversation and more like judgment about where I live, and how I live. None of these moments were isolated; each small action chipped away at my sense of safety and respect in my own home.
As he stayed, I served fruit and water.
I had intuitively bought pineapple, watermelon, and grapes the day before. I was glad we had something clean and nourishing, especially given that he wasn’t feeling well.
He mentioned he was a fruit snob and said the fruit was fresh and good. When he asked where I bought it, and I said Plum Market, he replied, “Oh, they think they’re the best.”
I remember thinking, yes, and with good reason. I go out of my way to shop there.
Later, we took a walk around the marina in my neighborhood.
During the walk, he mentioned an ex from his thirties who had wanted to see him on this trip. He said he declined, although he thought she might live in the same area.
I noticed how easily past figures entered the space between us, even while we were still in the middle of our own conversation.
He arrived close to 12 p.m. and surprisingly stayed until 10:48 p.m.
At one point, I asked if he wanted to order something in or go out for food. He said no, that the conversation was filling enough.
I was still hungry, and the pause to revisit food never came.
Looking at this now, I can see the red flags clearly.
I left an entire day and night open on a holiday weekend. I could have been traveling. Instead, I chose to meet someone I believed was excited to see me.
Why was he a prestigious guest? He was the person who lit a fire in me to pursue personal growth and self-development.
Because of him, I attended The Hoffman Process, my first spiritual re-awakening class in 2004. I also took numerous Landmark Education courses.
After twenty years of lightly staying in touch, I prepared my sacred space; my home and my heart, opening to the possibility that something meaningful could unfold in a new way.
When we hugged, it felt empty compared to the soul hug on the phone weeks earlier.
I shared my hopes. I spoke openly about the possibility of more. Only after he left did I feel the truth of what had actually occurred: this was what all talk and no action looks and feels like in real time.
He later confirmed that he asked people outside the interaction for support and interpretation, instead of asking me, the source, what I meant in my texts and how we could proceed in alignment. Then he prepared to leave early without telling me.
Reading Between the Lines
When plans change without communication and clarity is reframed as “crunchy” to justify an exit, communication breaks down due to a lack of integrity and transparency.
He enthusiastically mentioned more than once that he had all day and night available. When I asked what he meant, he clarified, “I meant I have nothing pressing on our time. Usually there’s always a next thing that sets the container.” I wanted to know if he was suggesting or expecting something, so I named what I intuitively felt.
By text, he answered clearly: no.
Later, in person, he admitted that while he wasn’t explicitly expecting or suggesting anything, if the night had led itself there, he would have welcomed intimacy.
That was what I had sensed.
When I addressed this and other concerns directly, he later told me that was when the energy shifted for him. The shift happened because I named what was real, and he hadn’t been honest behind the scenes.
Instead of addressing it with me, he sought outside validation and later described my direct questions as feeling “crunchy.” From there, he began to question whether the meeting was a good idea.
I sensed the misalignment before it was spoken; my body registered it as sharp pains in my chest, followed by an inner knowing that something else was coming.
What didn’t feel aligned for me was the lack of clean communication, the outsourcing of interpretation, and the shift in plans without transparency.
Discomfort is not the problem. Avoidance is.
When he told me that he and his ex had laughed about my text, “My space is sacred,” I explained what that meant to me and why it mattered. It was then that he said we should stop texting, because it creates miscommunication. He said phone calls or virtual meetups were better for clarity and connection.
I agreed.
And yet, after he left, he followed up by text.
Boundaries Revealed
He told me in the evening that he would now respect my home and prepare properly next time. It felt like I had to earn his respect before he would give it to me.
So I had to sacrifice my time, my energy, and my sacred space in order to earn future respect?
That did not land as truth.
When a No Is Remembered
When a No Is Remembered
Before he arrived, I asked if we were good and how my saying “no” in the past had landed with him. He often referenced how clearly I’d turned him down, though I couldn’t recall all the instances. Just that, like clockwork, during every Mercury Retrograde, he would resurface, and I would say no.
Wanting clarity before we met up, I asked, “I’m curious how that felt for you, and what it represented in your world at the time. I want us to reconnect from a clear place.” He assured me he never had bad feelings about my clarity and said he appreciated that I was setting a strong pillar for myself. He said he had found delight in watching me find my message, bloom, and create myself.
Yet in person, while discussing our past, he kept returning to the subject, as though my old “no” still lingered. That’s why I asked beforehand, because when someone is holding onto a rejection, you never know what might surface face-to-face. While preparing to meet with him again, I felt legitimately scared. I mentioned this on The Wisdom Channel® Christmas Day episode, “Releasing Fear & Staying Sovereign,” where I did my best to release that fear and stay sovereign in my heart.
Just because someone is charming and attractive and has all the right words doesn’t mean they can’t snap.
He didn’t snap, per se. Yet he was disrespectful of what I thought was private communication by sharing it with others. He shared what he really thought about my apartment back in the day, recalling it like a dorm room. I’d already explained it was what I could afford at the time, but the way he said it felt judgmental rather than understanding. He also spoke about how he felt he had to earn the right to sleep with me back then.
You could imagine my surprise, annoyance, and legitimate concern, and I also noticed he took something without asking, left trash for me to clean up, and moved small things in my home as if making a statement and marking his territory.
Processing in the Body
There are no shortcuts. We can’t bypass proper release if we want true integration.
The day after he left, anger and rage moved through my body. I felt pain in my neck and back. The massage therapist said it was just tension I’d been carrying.
As I let myself feel, whether by expressing or simply sitting quietly, the pain slowly eased.
The soul connects through the heart, with the mind as an intermediary.
Either way, my body already knew. Even before the meeting, I noticed anxious, negative thoughts I hadn’t had in years, if ever. Still, I did my best to stay calm and open.
Before his arrival, he sent an exit text, suggesting we have “a few more phone conversations and or meet up virtually to establish a more comfy and firm base prior to our meeting again.” I thought, "We can have that anyway and still meet up." Why does it have to be one or the other? I also knew that if we hadn’t met up, the door would have stayed open with uncertainty, and I didn’t want that.
Maybe, on some level, I knew I needed this meeting to close the door for good, and that I needed to do it this way for absolute clarity. I’m sure he has that now, too.
Completion
After the emotional hangover, I went silent.
I had nothing left to say.
He texted me, ignoring his own request that we should only talk on the phone or meet virtually to avoid miscommunication. His messages kept coming, and none asked how I was doing or showed interest in how I felt. Each one focused on his own thoughts and experience; the pattern was clear. His surface-level positivity and the absence of care or curiosity, spoke volumes.
And for the first time, I did not feel compelled to explain, soften, or respond.
I knew intuitively there was nothing more to say because there was nothing more to learn together. The silence was completion.
When I said I loved him, I meant it. I loved him for showing up exactly as he did, because it revealed where I was still being asked to love myself more fully.
That was the real lesson.
And with that clarity, the next evolution of my spiritual growth began. Sometimes the real completion isn’t in the other person’s response, but in honoring the voice within.
