When the Structure Feels Like a Cage

I pulled cards today about my husband’s military career—about this life that holds so much weight, stability, silence, and sacrifice. And what came up wasn’t clarity or ease. It was tension. Suppression. Fire that wants to rise but keeps getting dampened by duty, expectation, and a silent agreement to just… hold it together.

5 of Wands reversed—we’re not fighting, but that doesn’t mean there’s peace. It just means the words haven’t been said out loud yet.

Ace of Wands reversed—my magic feels tired. The spark is dim. My gut says: something new wants to be born, but there’s no oxygen here to light it.

2 of Cups reversed—how do we keep showing up for a life that might be pulling us apart?

I’ve worn Strength like a costume—held the house, the babies, the dreams, and the dogs with one hand while still reaching toward purpose with the other. But the cards say: you can set it down now. You don’t need to keep proving how resilient you are.

And what’s underneath the letting go?

The Devil reversed.

Freedom.

From the systems, the guilt, the survival mode.

From the illusion that staying bound means we’re loyal or good.

From the quiet resentment that builds when we smile through what breaks us.

This isn’t an ending.

It’s the beginning of something celebrated.

4 of Wands upright—a return to joy. Not survival, but actual thriving.

A home that feels like belonging again.

A partnership that breathes.

A life we get to build on our terms.

I don’t have the full clarity yet.

But I’m no longer pretending I’m not burning inside.

I want warmth—not just discipline.

Connection—not just service.

Freedom—not just structure.

And I want to believe we can still get there—together.