Soulmates (?), Soul Connections, and the Ones Who Carry Us Home

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about “soulmates.”
Not the Nicholas Sparks, meet-cute, fairytale kind.
Not the “there’s one person in eight billion just for you” story we were sold.

Something deeper. Something messier. Something real.

Most of us have known love, and we’ve known heartbreak. I think the verdict is still out on if there’s only one perfect person meant for each of us.

But I do believe, maybe more fiercely than ever, in soul connections.

What Does a Soul Connection Feel Like?

I keep asking myself this — or more like, I keep trying to name what this feeling is. What is it, really, when we say we connect with someone on a soul level?

It’s ease.
It’s silences that don’t feel heavy.
It’s when you can let the mask slip.

When you can be messy, or moody, or flat-out falling apart, and they stay.

It’s the way your whole body settles around them.
You exhale a little deeper. Your shoulders drop.
You stop bracing for rejection.

It’s about depth. About being known. About the way your soul seems to nod and say, ah, you’re one of mine.

The Carrie Bradshaw Line Living Rent-Free in My Head

There’s this quote from Sex and the City that’s been rattling around in my mind lately:

“Maybe our girlfriends are our soulmates, and guys are just people to have fun with.”

Okay if we’re being honest with ourselves. Carrie had (has?) terrible taste in men. Big was toxic. Aidan deserved better. I can’t even watch AJLT.

But this quote still gets me.

Because when I look around at my life, I have to believe there isn’t only one soulmate — I have to believe the souls who have held me up through the hardest, most unlovable parts of myself are souls who were meant to align with mine.

This Past Week Alone…

In just one week, they’ve shown up in ways that remind me how lucky I am to have them.

In the middle of the week, I cracked open a little — you know, one of those existential crises that hits when you least expect it. I texted my bestie and she didn’t flinch. Didn’t judge. She reminded me of what was real and helped me stop feeding myself the lies that were spinning in my head.

And then there was an afternoon on the water, kayaking for hours with another girlfriend, sun on our shoulders, floating between comfortable stillness and deep truths. By the time we came back to shore, nothing in my life had changed, but I felt lighter.

On my birthday, I got tattoos with two friends (and some special family members), something permanent and oddly grounding. We were literally marking a moment in time together and I don’t even know if they realized how special that was to me.

Then the next night, I went out to a b-day dinner with another friend, and we closed down the restaurant talking about everything and nothing: high highs, low lows, dreams, reinvention, motherhood, disappointment, joy. We didn’t rush. We didn’t filter. We didn’t look at our phones or check the clock.

And maybe the most sacred part of all: sitting in the safe, messy, tear-filled presence of the people I trust with the parts of myself I usually hide. The ugliest parts. The parts I think make me unworthy. And having them look at me and say, you are still lovable here.

Maybe We Get More Than One Soulmate

So maybe the idea of a singular soulmate was always too small.

Maybe we’re meant to have many.

Maybe we’re meant to be cracked open by different people along the way. Some who stay forever, some who drift in and out, some who only brush past us but leave fingerprints we’ll carry for the rest of our lives.

Friends. Partners. Even strangers who remind us of something we needed to remember.

So when I say “soul connection,” what I really mean is:

They are the ones who keep walking me home to myself.

If You’re Still Longing For This

And if you’re reading this thinking, I wish I had that,
I want you to know: I see you.

Not everyone has this. I know.
So many women have told me they’ve never had a ride-or-die friend or group of friends.

They’ve never had a place they could unravel and still be held.

If that’s you — please hear me when I say this:
You deserve that.
You are not too much.
You are not hard to love.
You are worthy of the kind of friendship that holds you when you’re strong and when you’re breaking.

And if you don’t have it right now, let this be your reminder that it’s still possible.

And that in the meantime, I’m here, quietly rooting for you. 💛

Final Thought

We are not meant to do this life alone.

And maybe the most important love story we’ll ever live isn’t the one we’re sold in fairytales.

Maybe it’s the one we write together in little moments that shape us, in quiet knowing, in the fierce, gentle, unshakable compassion offer each other, again and again.