Objectification of the Soul

To be or not to be… in love, is the question.

What is love? Baby, don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me… no more.

Okay, okay. I’ll stop and be serious for five seconds.

The topic tickling my brain this week is: the objectification of the soul. And honestly? I think a lot more people experience this than we realize.

We already know what it means to objectify someone - to flatten them into a thing. Something consumable. Something admired, touched, possessed, displayed. Something that exists more for what it gives than for what it actually is. But what happens when it’s not just your body being objectified… but your soul?

What happens when someone becomes fascinated with your depth, your femininity, your spirit, your mind - not because they want to nurture it, but because they want to experience it? Like emotional tourism.

I think that’s the cruelest part of it all.

Because sometimes it feels like you aren’t being loved, or even liked as a person. You’re being collected as an experience.

Like you’re this beautiful piece of art someone found while vacationing in another country. They wander into a tiny hidden shop, see you glowing under the warm lights, and suddenly they’re obsessed. They talk about how rare you are. How breathtaking. How they had to have you.

Then they bring you home.

And when guests come over, they proudly walk everyone toward you in the room at the back of the house.

“Look what I found.”

“Isn’t this incredible?”

“The color, the history behind it… Look at the markings on the surface. There’s nothing else quite like it.”

They tell stories about the feeling they had when they first saw you. The chase. The thrill. The moment they finally possessed you. Then they stand back and watch everyone admire you the way they once did.

And for a moment, you almost mistake that attention for something deeper. In your submission to their fascination, you begin to hand over sacred pieces of yourself, confusing love bombing with connection, while they perceive access to your soul as a means of ownership.

But eventually the party ends.

Everyone leaves.

The lights go off.

The door closes.

And there you are. Still beautiful. Still valuable. Still full of history, soul, and meaning… but sitting in the dark like something decorative.

Not deeply known.

Not cared for.

Just… displayed.

I think some of us carry heartbreak not because we were unloved, but because we were appreciated in such a shallow way that it confused us into thinking we were loved. Because there’s a difference between someone admiring your light and someone being willing to sit beside you in the dark. A lot of people love the feeling they get from you. Very few people are prepared to love the responsibility of you.

And maybe that’s why certain connections feel spiritually exhausting. Your soul knows when it’s being consumed instead of cherished.

So, what does it mean to objectify the soul? I believe it’s when someone falls in love with the access you give them, but not the humanity that comes with it.

It’s when someone wants your healing energy, but not your pain.

Your submission, but reject your boundaries.

Your warmth, but not the days you go cold from exhaustion.

It’s being treated like an emotional experience rather than as a living, breathing person.

Like being admired for your spirit while simultaneously being abandoned the moment your humanity becomes inconvenient.

I’ll stop adding salt to the wound and wrap this up. So, what does it look like to not objectify the soul? 

Well, it’s simple, your nervous system no longer feels like it’s being hunted down like a double agent who betrayed the company. You feel safe. Considered. Understood. Your body unclenches. Your mind quiets down. You stop preparing for abandonment and finally allow yourself to just… be happy.