Gale didn’t walk into the session looking for magic to save her relationship. She just wanted out.
Ten years married. Three kids. A mortgage. And a growing pit in her stomach every time her husband walked into the room.
“He doesn’t get me,” she said through tears. “He doesn’t help with the kids. Doesn’t lift a finger around the house. I’m done. I don’t even love him anymore. I want a divorce.”
I didn’t offer advice. I just invited her to explore something deeper.
“What if this relationship didn’t start here?” I asked.
The Regression
Gale lay back on the recliner. She closed her eyes. Breathed in light. And began to drift. She then saw herself in a peaceful English village—a housewife with a 3-year-old boy, who enjoyed a life of love and respect with her husband.
“My husband is dressed like a soldier. War is coming. Everyone’s panicking.” She whispered
She watched as the village evacuated. Women and children were loaded onto small boats, sent across the sea—to Belgium. Her husband stayed behind, waving goodbye from the dock.
Gale’s voice cracked:
“Oh, God, I know I’ll never see him again.”
The Love That Was Lost
Months passed. Then a knock at the door. A stranger stood with a solemn face. Her husband was gone. Just… gone. She was devastated. Nothing mattered anymore.
She somehow raised their son alone. Never remarried. She lived a quiet, lonely life and died at forty from pneumonia—heartbroken.
“How do you summarize your past life?”
“There’s no point in living without love,” she whispered. “Especially the precious love I shared with my husband.”
“Do you recognize that soul mate?” I asked softly.
She paused for a moment.
“I can’t believe it! It’s Adam. My husband. In this life.”
“Any similarities to today’s life?” I wondered.
A Pattern Repeating
“In that past life, I shut down after I lost him,” Gale said. “I got out of the incarnation once my son didn’t need me.
And now? I’m doing the same. Checking out emotionally. But this time… I still have my husband. He’s right here. By the way, how come we met again?”
we always incarnate with the same group of souls, this is our ‘Soul group’. We help each other learn our spiritual lessons” I explained.
We talked about soul groups. How we reincarnate in constellations—learning, hurting, healing, returning. Again and again.
That session ended quietly. But something had shifted.
The Next Day
My phone rang. It was Gale.
“When I got home, Adam was already asleep. I just… kissed him. Kissed his face. His chest. His hands. I couldn’t stop. I felt him again.
I remembered the man I once loved—and still do.
This morning, I woke up with butterflies. It felt like we had just met.”
She laughed through tears.
“Thank you for helping me remember what we had. And what we still have.”
“You’re welcome,” I smiled. “And by the way, I didn’t do it. You did.”
Final Thought
Love doesn’t always need a new partner. Sometimes it needs a deeper remembering.
Your soul might be holding the answers your mind forgot. All you need to do is ask.