Be The King of Your Castle: Lessons From a Warrior Lover Long Gone

Be the King that you long for lovers.

This is a lesson I had to learn at the hands of beautiful warrior man lately who had to plunge a sword through my tender heart to bringing me home to one of the greatest truths of my life.

king of your own castle.jpg

It is I that must be the King of my own Queendom.

I truly cannot ask someone else to be something for me that I cannot be for myself.

You can’t outsource the ruling of your heart to anyone but yourself darling. Only when you embrace the King and Queen within will you be able to receive the love you truly deserve. The King outside of you can only come when you cultivate the King within.

I share my own recent tale of loss and longing with you, partially as a love letter to my wide open heart and in homage to a love that had to die so that I could learn, but also partially to honour him for his part in setting me free. It was agonising to sit and watch on as the man I had started to care for deeply shot me at point blank range, so that we could both live. And even though he couldn’t look me in the eyes when he did it, sometimes you have to close your eyes to do something so brutal, I see it for what it was: the gift of setting us free. For together we would have torn apart our hearts, and the true of he and I would not have been brought to bear.

In this silent execution, I see the magic and the medicine, I see the light and love where previously I would only have seen only pain and loss. This lesson; the panacea for the true pain of not being able to love fully for I had not yet been able to fully love myself. So I share it here, so hopefully you can take the learning and make it yours without the need for a body blow.

A couple of months ago, I met a man. The soul spark between us gave me the courage to do something I have never done, to give myself permission to sink into the possibility of loving a very special soul. It was unexpected, unsettling but surprisingly simple. My heart, wide open, loves easily, readily, perfectly. This “little love that could” was secure and so undeniably sure.

He made me shine in the safety of his arms, his heart and his soul. Until...

Snap crackle pop. KABOOM.

In one hot minute, my precious little seedling of love was blown to absolute bits. Just like that...GONE. Without a trace. Like accidentally standing on a landmine while out for a walk with your lover in the warm glow of Spring sunshine; where there once was hope for something beautiful, there is now not a shred left of that which was before, just shrapnel strewn across the walls of what could have been.

One moment, delight, joy, expectation, hope.

Then: not another word was spoken. Ever. Again.

Initially, as the silence descended upon me, I was plunged into a place where there is no light, no words, not even the smallest crumb of kindness is offered to soothe your ache.

It's a cold dark lonely place, silence. Your mind plays tricks you can’t see coming, as you attempt pick up the pieces of your blown apart heart in the pitch black. It’s a task I would not wish on my worst enemy.


But soon the real pain was to come over like a cloud, seeking to settle in. The sting and slap of abandonment. A wound as old as time. A fear rooted deep in my being that once it takes hold is like running a knife under your skin with no hope of reprieve.

Hard. Hot. Hurting. Haemorrhaging. Horrible.

But the worst of it is, it’s not my adult self that feels the tender ache of the leaving, the vacuum left behind by the person that was once there. No. That would have been manageable. The one who feels this so keenly is the little girl you see to your right.

The innocent one. Her little heart still in the making when it first happened.

Pure and perfect.

Untouched as yet by the wounds that would be inflicted on her by me in the years to come. Her tender soul not yet able to understand the complexities of life and love, and how sometimes you have to lose something to gain something you need more urgently.

It’s unbearable to see her howl with the hurt of hope taken from her.

Her little heart so willing to love, so aching to be loved, so longing to be held, so afraid of being….left.

In the ache of the silence that followed his departure, I could see and feel her so clearly. This little girl so longing for this love, so much faith written on her little face. Everyday she waited patiently for him to return. She stood at the front door, this little tiny me, 5 years old, peering out expectantly into the nothingness. Not understanding the silence, no comprehension of where he had gone, no way to explain why he isn’t coming back. Still filled with pure love and hope that he would be the one that would not let her down, he would be back soon, he was…different.

Day by day her little light dimmed.

I see her again as the darkness of the silence settles on us once more, she, left by herself, as this man walks away, without so much a glance back to see her tiny heart fall messily to the ground in front of her. She stands there, shattered, but somehow stoic; blinking in disbelief, hot tears of abandonment streaming down her round baby face. She is in agony, she is alone. She steadies herself through the tears, for this is familiar territory, this is a wound she knows well. She had hope for this one. Her heart, it sighs, and heaves a heavy hiccup. Not today, honey, not today.

This little girl though, she is no ordinary child.

With the heart of a warrior, and the wings of angel, she has a widsom far beyond that of my adult self.

You see what I know now, is that this brave little girl, she chose this man carefully herself. He would be the one gentle enough, loving enough, to heal her.

And what a man she chose.

He brought my soul to a standstill. Words won’t do this connection justice.

When he said “I’ll keep you safe”, I believed him. Utterly. With every cell of my being. I still do. Not a single syllable that fell from his lips sounded anything but translucent truth.

I smiled into his eyes. I placed my heart in his warm hands and said softly “please be gentle”. “I promise” he whispered into my ear, as he placed a kiss upon it to seal this sacred shared oath inside me.

It was a promise he was not going to be able to keep. And she knew it. That is precisely why she selected him. It’s not that he didn’t want to, it’s that he couldn’t. Not here, not now.

She and he are soul connected, and she could not have chosen anyone more magical. But this tale is bittersweet, and drink the medicine I must.


But in honouring this brave little girl, I'm not going sugar coat or be ashamed about how much it hurt the woman in me: I longed, I keened, I pined. I have never met anyone like him and I missed him, and I still do, unreasonably so.

And yes, I unabashedly prayed like fuck he would have a change of heart, realise how much this was hurting me, how special what we had was, and come riding up on his fast motorbike to bang down my front door, not take no for an answer, snatch me into his arms and say some simple soothing words that would make it ache just a little less. A simple truth told to ease a hurting heart.

Not today lady.

Darling, he is not coming, not for you sweetheart.

Not today, not tomorrow, for everything is as it should be. All to be done in sweet divine time.

You see, this lesson I had to learn was far too precious to be sidestepped slyly by my warrior man running in to save the day with hollow words and a plastic sword. Oh no, not this time. Not when my little girl had put her body on the line one last time.

So it was bound to be that the lesson I would learn from him would breathtakingly beautiful. For was time I came to save myself.

You see, I had to find the King within, before I could call a real one to my side. And that's not to say this man won't be a King one day, I believe he will, and lucky is the lady that will get his love, but for me, I needed to be the one "to rescue myself right back". For me, by me.

i call you king.jpg

Your only job here beauties, is to become the man for yourself that you wish he was. YOU be the man that HE cannot. For you. Allow your inner King to show you the courage, the kindness and to hold you the way he cannot or will not. Let your King soothe your aching heart. Outsourcing is rarely the answer, and only ends in assigning your power to others. Pure love for you, is the only place to give love to others.

So next up, is letting go of all the expectations and longing around what you want this living man to be, and instead replace it with what you will be for yourself.

Be the King of your queendom honey.

Let it reign Queen.

For as your own King, you won't abandon yourself when things get hard, you won't leave you aching in silence and you won't lack the courage to tell yourself the truth. Show yourself what it's like to have a real man SHOW THE FUCK UP FOR YOU!

Celebrate and elevate your own internal divine masculine, and watch those Kings come in honey. You get this bit right baby let me know when you need that stick to beat them ALL off with!

You be the King you want to come calling at your castle gates and then you just sit back on that magnificent throne of yours and wait for the exceptional divine loving men that are about to walk through that door and come and claim you. This darling, this is the recipe for true greatness in love, fierce love for yourself, fierce love for love!

Lest there be any confusion, I am also incredibly grateful to the man whose heart (painfully) taught this to me. I may be hurt by his actions, I may be sad that he is gone, but my heart holds nothing but love for him, because how could it not? Look at what this pain gave me, the keys to the King I have looked for my whole life. So soldier man to you I say this: thank you, I see you, I love you, I forgive you, I release you. May you go on to know the kind of love that I now know how to give myself. You are truly one of a kind.


Men are always the medicine ladies: never forget that, they are to be treasured, even when you don't get what you want, you always get what you need.

In so much love for the Kings and Queens you are all destined to be.


Miss Cook


Angela Cook