Content warning: The following story contains a description of stalking.
I’m 33 years old, and in my humble opinion, I’ve gone through a lot of breakups. I got into my first relationship in 7th grade, when I dated Brandon Keeley (whose name has been changed) for seven months and 24 days. The extent of our romance involved standing next to each other (but not speaking) while we waited for our respective parental figures to pick us up after school, and holding hands once for 15 minutes while walking through a haunted house on Halloween. Breaking up seemed inevitable, but I still felt a pang of regret the day I said, “I think we should break up,” while standing in front of our school office.
Since then, I’ve gone through probably ten different breakups with men I’ve dated for at least a year. I have an anxious attachment style, so regardless of whether or not the relationship was “healthy,” or good for my well-being, I always found that I had a hard time letting go.
When I was 23, I met someone we’ll call Michael, who I dated for a little over a year. Our relationship was far from good: We fought all the time, broke up every other week, and had a connection that could only be described as “toxic.” While the relationship itself was dramatic, what happened after the breakup was worse.
After we ended things, Michael continued to reach out to me nonstop. He would text me vulgar messages, then call me and leave a sweet voicemail. On one occasion, while I was out of town after I didn’t return four of his calls, he texted me saying he was going to use the spare key to get into my apartment to see if I was taking a nap. I ended up filing a police report when I got home, and obviously, I changed the locks, but I was beyond freaked out. I blocked his number, but he would use iPhone apps to text me from random numbers, threatening to upload private videos and photos of me online.
Michael’s family was wealthy and well-connected, and when I reached out to them for help, they told me if I tried to file a restraining order they would retaliate. Too scared to make a serious move, I endured months of taunting.
At the time, I was seeing a hypnotist to help with my anxiety, and she suggested I visit someone for a cord-cutting. No, I’m not referring to the cords connecting your iPhone to the charger or your television to the wall – I’m talking about emotional cords. She explained that the process would remove emotional ties between Michael and I, which should, ultimately, help me move forward.
At the time, I was low on options, and even though I wasn’t the most “spiritual” person, I decided to try it, and visited Erin Wallace of the Modern Mystery School for an energy-clearing session.
When I arrived at my appointment, Wallace brought me into a room and sat me down in a chair. We chatted a bit, and then it was time to start. She asked me to “put somebody in front of me,” and start thinking of them. She started out by doing a negative spell removal, which entailed her putting a phurba – a Tibetan ceremonial tool to dispel evil (in my case, it looked like a big knife) – on my third eye. From there, she did a prayer to remove any negative energy, and pull it directly out of me. “People don’t realize the power of their thoughts, and so they might send negative energies toward you,” Wallace tells POPSUGAR.
Next, Wallace asked me to put the person I had been attached to at the front of my mind. Then, she used the phurba to cut the cords; she cut them physically using an incense stick. The emotional cords then “went into” the incense, which Wallace put in front of me and burned, so I could watch all of the negative ties release with the incense. After, Wallace used sound to clear my energy fields, and then we did a positive spell.
“You might have been comfortable in your discomfort,” Wallace says. “Some people like their misery, so if we didn’t do something positive after, you would have pulled that [negativity] back in.” She asked me to come up with something I wanted to instead “refill” so that there was no void left inside of me.
Immediately after, I remember feeling . . . well, nothing really. I expected to feel lighter, brighter, or somehow happier, but the truth was I just felt like me. In the days, weeks, and months that followed, though, I didn’t hear a peep from Michael.
In fact, it was almost as if he had disappeared from my life completely. His friends lived in the same city as me, we frequented the same bars, and I firmly had it in my head that we were bound to run into each other at some point, but we never did. It’s been almost 10 years (wow, I feel so old saying that), and I still haven’t heard from him, which, by the way, is good. (Michael, if you’re reading this: Please don’t reach out.)
So, did cord-cutting work for me? I’d say hell yes, it did. Would I do it again? Absolutely – but not without really thinking it through. First of all, I’ve read online that trying to cut ties with a twin flame is a big no-no (whether or not I actually believe in twin flames is another story), and second, I think cord-cutting only works if you’re truly ready to move on.
Obviously, I’m not trained in this in any way, but I believe that if a part of you still wants to be energetically tied to someone or something, the cord-cutting won’t work. In my case, I was so ready to get TF away from my ex-boyfriend and fully let go of him, so it worked like a charm. Bye, bye, bad energy! See ya never.
