My SP and I started dating, and the other day we were looking at houses.
I want to begin by saying that my experience with specific people, or SPs, has not been limited to romance. Over the years, my SPs have included distant family members, estranged friends, partners, and even pets. I have seen consistent success in manifesting these connections, whether it was repairing family bonds, hearing from friends I had lost touch with, finding the right animal companion, or entering into relationships that I genuinely wanted.
That said, it is undeniable that romantic SPs tend to be the greatest source of struggle for most people, myself included. I have had SPs in the past whom I eventually released. Some returned, but by then I realized the connection no longer aligned with the person I had become. These experiences happened even before I consciously knew about the Law of Assumption or manifestation communities. In hindsight, I see that I was practicing principles intuitively.
Recently, my current SP and I were looking at houses together, and it made me reflect on the stark difference between this relationship and the widening rifts I experienced with others in the past. What makes this situation different? The answer is simple: I want him, but not through the lens of lack or desperation the way I once wanted others.
With previous SPs, my desire was fueled by ego, longing, and a fear of loss. I now recognize that abandoning myself in pursuit of someone is not true love. That dynamic was more about craving the intensity of unrequited longing than about genuinely wanting the person. It was a story my ego wanted to replay, one centered on drama, scarcity, and pining.
With my current SP, the process was different. Before we met, I wrote a detailed list of what I wanted in a partner. I did not obsess over it or ritualize it. I simply created clarity. When we eventually connected, he naturally aligned with what I had written. There was no frantic repetition, no rituals to keep him from "slipping away." Instead, I allowed the experience to unfold. Now that we are together, I do not carry a sense of impending doom. I feel grounded, secure, and excited about our future.
From a psychological perspective, this shift matters. Healthy love does not require self-abandonment. It does not thrive on anxiety, obsessive thought patterns, or constant reassurance. Instead, it flows from a secure sense of self. I am not spinning stories about him neglecting me if he is working or engaged in his own hobbies. I am not spending hours affirming out of fear. I am simply being the version of myself who he naturally wants to share a life with, and that is enough.
I also think it is worth considering the SP's perspective. Imagine looking at someone you care about and seeing them spiral into fear, suspicion, or despair. Imagine being cast as the villain in their story, the person who always falls short. That energy does not feel good to receive, and most people do not want to become that role for someone they love.
Sometimes, what we are really chasing is not the person, but the unresolved emotion tied to our past. Trauma often compels us to recreate old patterns, hoping subconsciously to rewrite the ending. Some people even drive themselves to rock bottom because the struggle itself gives them a sense of meaning or motivation.
This is why it is essential to pause and ask yourself: Do I truly want this person? Or do I want the drama, the intensity, the familiar pain of longing? If it is the latter, then the question becomes: what part of me is still seeking that cycle, and why? And if the answer is that I do, in fact, want the relationship, then who am I willing to be within it?
