Man, relationships are tough enough without bringing in all the extra baggage, right? I want to share something from a few years back, a total mess of a situation that really taught me to pay attention to my daily draw, especially when it felt like things were starting to get slippery.
I was in this relationship, and I just had this nagging feeling. Nothing I could point a finger at, but you know that vibe? The one where you feel like you’re running a race in the deep end of a pool? Slow and heavy. I started pulling my deck every morning, just for a quick check on the energy of the day. I wasn’t even asking about the guy, I was asking about me and my focus.
The Practice Starts: A Nagging Visitor
Every single day, it felt like. Or at least three or four times a week. The deck would practically scream at me. It wasn’t The Tower, which is loud and dramatic, or The Devil, which is suffocating. It was always, always, the Seven of Swords.
I swear, that card became my unwelcome roommate. At first, I was trying to interpret it as me needing to sneak away from a bad situation, or maybe needing to take a risk in my work life. I was bending over backward trying to make it about anything other than the relationship because, honestly, I was scared of what it really meant.
The image is so clear: someone sneaking away, looking over their shoulder, trying to carry five swords while leaving two behind. It’s the card of partial truth, of getting away with something, of selective honesty. I was totally ignoring the obvious link because I didn’t want to deal with the inevitable chaos.
My daily practice started to shift. Instead of asking ‘What should I focus on?’ I started asking ‘What is being hidden from me?’ And guess what? Still the Seven of Swords. It wasn’t a coincidence; it was a loud alarm bell that I kept hitting the snooze button on.
The Sneaky Energy Confirmed
The pattern in real life matched the pattern in the cards perfectly. Suddenly, his phone was always face down. He was ‘working late’ a lot, but his stories for the next day felt like they had holes you could drive a truck through. He wasn’t lying outright, which is the worst part of the Seven of Swords energy—it’s more about omission and distraction than a full-on fabrication. He was just taking five of the swords and hoping I wouldn’t notice he left the other two.
The turning point wasn’t some huge dramatic confrontation. I was honestly just exhausted from seeing that card every morning. It hit me one Saturday morning when I was doing a spread—Past, Present, Outcome. The 7 of Swords landed square in the ‘Present’ spot again, right next to the Queen of Swords (the cold, sharp truth-teller, which I was ready to become).
I just stopped. I looked at the card, and then I looked at him scrolling on his phone in a total daze. The practice finally kicked in. I didn’t need proof of anything specific anymore. I had proof of the energy.
I walked right over to him and didn’t even yell. I just pointed at his phone, then pointed at the card. I said, “This secrecy, this sneaking around, it’s done. You’ve been trying to pull a fast one.” The look on his face confirmed every single reading I’d pulled for weeks. He hadn’t planned a clean getaway; he was caught because he was being sloppy and thinking he could manage a low-risk, slightly dishonest exit from accountability.
The Climax and The Takeaway
Did I get the full truth? No. That’s the nature of the Seven of Swords—you rarely get all seven swords back. You only get the two they felt comfortable leaving behind. But I got my truth. That card in a love reading, especially when it appears repeatedly, is a massive warning sign:
- Someone is calculating their actions, not being spontaneous.
- They are prioritizing their gain over your peace.
- The whole truth is intentionally being withheld.
My practice evolved from being scared of the cards to trusting them implicitly. Now, when the Seven of Swords shows up related to a personal connection, I don’t try to intellectualize it away. I know someone is either being sneaky with me, or I am being sneaky with myself by avoiding something big. I learned that dealing with that secretive behavior isn’t about catching them in the act; it’s about acknowledging the slippery energy and then making a strong, clean exit yourself. Don’t waste time on someone who thinks a relationship is a game of taking without asking.
