“Will I ever find love?” People ask me this one quietly, usually near the end of a session, like it's been waiting behind all the other questions. And every time, I feel the real weight of it — because it's never really a question about the future. It's a question about worth, asked in the dark: is something wrong with me?
Let me answer that part first, plainly: no. In ten years of readings I have never once looked at someone's energy and found them unlovable. Not once. What I have found, again and again, is love having trouble getting through. And those are profoundly different problems.
01The harder, better question
“Will I find love” hands your whole story to fate and leaves you waiting in the audience. So I ask a different question, and I'll warn you — it's harder: “If real love showed up this month, would it recognize an opening?” Not “do you want it.” Everyone wants it. Is there room? Space in the schedule you guard, the guard you keep up, the story you tell about how it always goes? This question stings because it returns the pen to your hand. But that's exactly why it's better — you can't do anything about fate. You can do everything about openings.
02What “not ready to see it” actually looks like
Here's the pattern I encounter constantly: love, or its honest beginnings, has usually already brushed past the person asking. The kind one they didn't pursue because there were no fireworks, not realizing fireworks are often just the nervous system recognizing an old familiar chaos. The connection they exited early because it felt “too easy.” When your template for love was drawn by people who made you earn it, steady warmth doesn't register as love. It registers as boring. “Not ready to see it” isn't blindness, it's a miscalibrated instrument. And instruments can be recalibrated.
03The waiting-room trap
The cruelest thing this question does is put life on layaway: I'll really live once they arrive. But a paused life gives love nothing to walk into. The most magnetic thing I ever see in someone's energy isn't longing, it's a life already in motion, with a door left open. Fill your own rooms first. Not as a manifestation trick. Because a full life with an open door is both the best strategy and the best consolation, it wins either way.
04What I can actually tell you
When someone brings me this question, I read what's honestly there: whether love is approaching in their timeline, what season it belongs to, and, just as important, what's currently standing in the doorway. Sometimes the answer is beautiful timing. Sometimes it's a pattern that needs one honest look before anything can land. Either way, you leave with the question finally off your chest and something real to hold instead. That alone changes how you carry yourself, and how you carry yourself changes what finds you.