I will never forget my dark night of the soul.
I had just graduated college with a Bachelor’s in Psychology.
The world felt as though it were at my fingertips.
I was applying for Master’s programs in social work and marriage family therapy and I was positive I was going to get in.
I had good grades and internship experience creating care plans for senior citizens.
My spirit was vibrant and enthusiastic, fanned by the flames of passion and the invincibility of youth.
All the hard work I had put in of paying my way through school while working full time at a draining retail job was finally going to come to fruition.
I was finally going to achieve my dream of helping others!
Except… I didn’t.
I was contacted two days before my wedding day. I had been granted a group interview for a marriage and family therapy program for the school I was deeply intent on attending.
I couldn’t believe my luck!
Unfortunately, during the group interview I fell flat on my face. First of all, as an introvert, I am better one on one. My voice has a tendency to get drowned out in groups, especially among people whose personalities are bigger than my own.
In addition, the questions were not at all what I expecting. My mind went blank and the answers that managed to come out of my mouth painted a picture of a girl who was immature and inexperienced, rather than a woman who had been working towards this for six years of her life.
Needless to say, I didn’t get accepted into any programs- I was waitlisted. A fate that resulted in further anticipatory anxiety which ultimately led to nothing.
Do you want to know the truth? Here it is: I only applied to two schools. Looking back, my conscious mind should have seen this a major red flag.
Part of me wonders if I sabotaged myself. I mean, who applies for only two different schools? If I really wanted it, wouldn’t I have applied for more?
If it was truly my dream to be an LCSW or MFT, wouldn’t I have buckled up and put in more volunteer hours? Widened my pool to at least 5 schools? Kept trying and trying until they let me in?
The other part considers that maybe this is merely my brain rationalizing in order to avoid further wounding. To avoid facing the truth that I simply wasn’t good enough to make the cut.
And either way, that’s okay. I choose to grant myself grace.
After the rejection and perceived failure that I experienced I went into a downward spiral. As one does when their dreams are shattered before their very eyes.
I went through the stages of grief- denial, anger, bargaining, the whole gambit, until I finally reached the final stage. I landed in a dark, wallowing pool of depression. This lasted for about half a year.
Did anything matter anymore? What was I supposed to do next?
I refused to resign myself to a life in retail.
I keenly remember the moment when all of these questions were racing around in my head and suddenly, I couldn’t take it any longer. I needed closure of some kind. The way I saw it, I was at a crossroads. I could try to get into a master’s program for another year, or find a job to pay the bills.
I followed a really strange intuitive nudge and allowed Tarot to decide my fate. This was quite against my nature at the time, actually. Tarot had a negative stigma in my mind. However, I was at a point in my life where nothing was making sense anymore. I was much more receptive to the pulls of the Universe. I decided to do a three card pull- past, present and future.
I knew next to nothing about Tarot, but as I lay the cards out I felt like I had been punched in the gut. My intuition, with the help of the Tarot of Dreams guidebook, clearly communicated to me that the path I was on was not right for me. Pursuing higher education in psychology was not right for me.
I was in a state of shock. I began to cry, sobbing uncontrollably. The Tarot finally allowed me to see what was in front of my face. I gave myself permission to grieve.
To let my dream go.
To make room for something better and more aligned for me, although I couldn’t see that at the time.
What happens after a tumultuous storm? A stunning rainbow. Rebirth.
And that’s exactly what I got.
This isn’t a sad story about my dream of becoming a therapist going to die.
It is the story of someone who hit rock bottom and then found their way back into the light.
After this dark night of the soul, I experienced my Awakening.
I realized that I was an empath.
My eyes were opened to the amazing world of crystals, ayurveda, essential oils, reiki, shamanism and much more.
Something that I had always suspected as a child was confirmed for me as an adult. Magic does exist.
And in doing so, was led to my soul’s purpose of being a healer and guide.
While intensely painful at the time, I am so extremely grateful for my dark night of the soul.
Because without it, I wouldn’t be the person I am today.
So take heart, dear one. Remember the poet Rumi’s infamous quote, “The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”
Sometimes growth is distressing and raw, but a metamorphosis is necessary to become the butterfly that is your evolved self.
You are meant for greater things. Things that your mind may not even be able to fathom at this moment.
