30 Days of Past Life Regression - Day 1 - The Native Soulmate I'll Never Know.

So today, I begin a sacred journey, one past life regression a day for 30 days.

The first past life I tapped into is one I first saw when I was just 11 years old. I woke from sleep, sobbing, heart-wrenching, body-shaking, uncontrollable tears. My mother rushed into my room in a panic, trying to make sense of it, but I could barely breathe, let alone speak. My chest felt like it had been torn open, my heart shattered into a thousand sharp, invisible pieces.

Through the gasps and the flood of tears, I finally managed to say, “I’ll never know my soulmate in this life.”

Relief softened her face, perhaps assuming it was only a nightmare. She held me, gently, whispering that everything was okay.

But it wasn’t a nightmare.

I had astral travelled, something I had done nearly every night of my childhood. And this journey was unlike any I had taken before. It was to a place that felt ancient and holy, more vivid and real than waking life. A place I had never seen before, and one I’ve never returned to since.

I found myself barefoot, walking along a narrow, well-worn forest path carved into a mountainside. The slope rose steeply on my left, while on my right, the mountain dropped away into shadowed trees. In the distance, a Native man was running towards me. And without thinking, I knew, I needed to run to him too.

But from the lower forest, a pack of wolves charged toward us, determined to keep us apart. I ran harder, willing my legs to fly, desperate for even a moment of embrace.

But it wasn’t enough.

From above, a massive black wolf, my spirit animal, descended from the mountain. He crossed the path, fierce and silent, and threw himself into the fray, holding the pack back just long enough.

And in those brief, timeless seconds, the man and I reached each other.

There were no words. There didn’t need to be.

He was my soulmate.

The one I had found in lifetime after lifetime. But not this time. He wasn’t allowed to join me in this life.

As he wrapped his arms around me, I felt a love deeper than anything I’ve known in this reality, deeper than unconditional love. A soul recognition that shook me at my core. And a missing that tore at the very root of my being. We were allowed only one breath together before I was pulled back into my 11-year-old body.

I woke up with my heart hollowed out. Not wondering if it was a dream, but knowing with absolute certainty, it was real. And that knowing has never left me, yet I would never see him in this lifetime. Every cell of my being shattered, my heart felt ripped from my chest as physical pain filled my body and uncontrollable tears poured in mourning of a love I deeply missed.

Over time, I came to peace with the idea that I might walk this life alone. It wasn’t a surrender. It was acceptance. And if I do find love in this life, I will honour it deeply, but I will never forget the moment that shaped me so completely.

I never looked further into that past life. It always felt so final. There was never a question to ask.

Until last night.

What I saw next opened the doorway to a deeper understanding. A deeper truth.

We are tethered, not just in spirit, but in memory, in knowing.

My Past Life Regression Experience

In the past life regression, I saw myself as a young Native child, always pulled by an invisible thread toward something beyond the horizon. I would wander, seeking, but each time the tribe would gently guide me back, never allowing me to wander far.

At five years old, I discovered a litter of wolves. One stood apart from the rest, larger, darker, black as a new moon night. He became mine, and I his. He was not allowed within the village, but the moment I stepped beyond its bounds, he would appear at my side.

My father, confused and worried by my wanderings, had me spend my days with the Shaman Woman. He hoped she would cure what he couldn’t understand. But she knew. She saw what stirred in me. And instead of silencing it, she began to teach me.

She taught me how to listen to the whispers of the wind, how to read the song of the streams, how to speak to the animals and hear the guidance of the birds.

My bond with the black wolf deepened; we spoke without words, moved as one. The Shaman told me he was not merely a protector, but a spirit guide made flesh. He would follow me through this life, and many others.

As part of my training, I was sent into the forest for days at a time. Each task a test of spirit and strength.

One final test remains vivid in my memory: I was to find a rattlesnake and ask it to bite me. Then, using only the gifts of the forest and the wisdom I’d been taught, I would either heal or not return.

After three days of walking, I sat on a high stone ledge that overlooked the mountains. I whispered my request to the trees. And a rattlesnake answered.

We spoke. I told him of my task. He asked if I was certain. I said yes.

He bit my leg, then bowed in honour before retreating.

Pain pulsed through me. My wolf lay beside me, guarding my fragile body. Near my resting place grew wild yarrow, I had asked its permission earlier. I gathered the flowers and leaves, mixed them with ash I’d carried from the village fire, and created a healing poultice. I prayed to the spirits of the land and to the mountain itself as I dressed my wound.

Then I surrendered to the night.

I awoke to the song of morning birds. Alive.

I returned home. No words were spoken. No praise was given. Only the Shaman Woman smiled and handed me a warm bowl of soup, as if I had just been out collecting berries for the day's meal.

That night, as I lay in her teepee, my first blood came. She felt it before I did and leaned in close to whisper me awake, “Now it’s time.”

She had already prepared my supplies. I wrapped my furs around me and left beneath the moonlight, following the invisible thread I had always felt.

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months. I didn’t question the journey. I simply knew I was getting closer.

Then, one midday, I came to a path along the mountainside. The slope rose high to my left and dropped away into trees on my right. Ahead, walking toward me, was a boy.

And in that instant, I knew. We found each other (again).

He had a raven that flew gracefully over him, clearly his own spirit guide. Our animals came together as if they, too, had waited lifetimes to reunite.

We travelled north and found a village that welcomed us, though they were not our people, they welcomed us warmly, and we made a life. We had many children together, each one we loved as deeply as we loved each other. In time, we sent our animals back to our original tribes as messengers, we were safe; we had found one another.

Peace lived with us for many years. Until word came of white men sweeping the land, chasing tribes from their homes, bringing death and destruction.

Fear spread like wildfire. Tribes began attacking one another, desperate to survive.

Our men left to protect us from an approaching group.

But it wasn’t enough. They got in.

They slaughtered me, half of our children, and the rest were taken.

When he returned, he found only blood and silence. The grief broke something inside him. He became a force of vengeance, consumed by rage. He killed many tribesmen, settlers, and anyone who stood in his way.

Eventually, he was captured. Tortured. Killed.

And in his destruction, he lost the right to return with me in this life.

———

After that past life remembering, I was shown flashes, lifetimes filled with forbidden love, love lost too soon, love never spoken.

Why have these cycles followed me through so many incarnations?

Through this regression, I now hold the tools and the wisdom to heal. To break the patterns that have bound me to sorrow and separation. To release the ache of love denied, the hollow ache of loneliness, the echo of endings that never found peace.

I am ready to shift timelines. I am ready to remember a life where love is safe, sacred, and lasting.

And if you feel the pull too, if your soul carries echoes from lifetimes past, know that past life regression can offer clarity, healing, and restoration. It can help you understand why certain patterns repeat and guide you back to your truest self.

The Lesson This Past Life Gave Me

That life taught me about the kind of love that defies logic and time, the kind that lives in the marrow of the soul and travels with us across centuries. But it also showed me the sorrow that comes when even great love is not meant to be lived in the physical world.

For so long, I carried the ache of being incomplete in this life. But through this regression, I realised: love doesn’t only live in being together. Sometimes, its greatest power is in what it awakens within us when we’re apart.

This life reminded me that soulmates don’t always walk beside us, they walk within us. And the absence of one does not mean we are unloved. It means we are being prepared… for something deeper, for something we’re meant to become.

In this life, I am not here to relive the pain of separation, I am here to break the cycle. To anchor love in presence. To become whole in my own being. To write a new story, not of longing, but of belonging.

And so I walk forward, not searching, but remembering.

If you're ready to explore your own past lives through a guided regression, book a session here.

Or if you’d like to receive intuitive insight into a past life through a channelled message, book a past life reading here.

Your story is waiting to be remembered.

Emma Elizabeth

www.RealmsofAlchemy.com