queen of swords reversed
no.
Written by Victoria
Even while writing about the Queen of Swords reversed, I felt a kind of communication fatigue. I kept trying to find the right way to explain what I meant, and the more I tried, the more tired I felt.
It reminded me of a reading I gave someone that I honestly don’t think I’ll ever forget. A reading I should have stopped.
Alongside my full time job, I work part time at a metaphysical shop in Miami. I do it for the pure love of all things spiritual and esoteric. I love being around the crystals, having those conversations, and meeting people who are curious about the same things I am. I also offer tarot readings in the shop.
It was my second day. I’d already done a couple of readings when someone walked in looking for a specific reader. That reader wasn’t me.
I was new. The person she wanted wasn’t coming in until around three, and their appointments might keep them occupied until six. It was noon, and she didn’t live close to the shop.
I was available, so I offered.
At the time, I was thinking about convenience. She was already there. I was already there. But looking back, it brings me to what I believe about divine timing. Sometimes availability is all two people have in common at that moment.
With a little encouragement from the owner, and after we reiterated that she didn’t have to read with me, she agreed.
Her response landed with me as, fine, I’ll settle for you.
That was how I received it. I can’t say whether that was what she intended. But it didn’t feel great, and I could feel myself becoming defensive before we even sat down.
I told myself that maybe my ego was bruised. I could put that aside, be professional, and give her my attention.
When we sat down, she asked for my sign. I told her, and I asked for hers. I immediately had the impression that she was already a very spiritual person.
The best way I can describe what I felt was something deeply rooted. Something longstanding and difficult to move. In the imagery that comes to me during readings, I pictured a gargoyle. Still, watchful, protective.
That was my impression. I didn’t know whether I was responding to her guardedness, my own nerves, or something I understood spiritually. But I felt increasingly uncomfortable.
As I shuffled and asked a few preliminary questions, she gave me very little to work with. I softened my voice. I tried to make the space feel easier. I kept looking for a way into the conversation.
And I kept getting the feeling that I should stop.
Instead, I pulled the first card.
The Queen of Wands.
A card I know pretty well. I love studying the queens. But I looked at her as though I’d never seen that card before in my life.
I felt clouded. Nervous. Completely confused.
I asked whether she read her own oracle cards. I was trying to understand the strong sense of protection I was feeling around her, and whether she had a spiritual practice of her own. She said she did sometimes. Maybe two weeks earlier.
Eventually, I told her what I was experiencing. I felt nervous about what to say, as though I might say something wrong. The impression coming to me felt protective and matriarchal, almost as though I wasn’t welcome to speak.
I was trying to explain an experience I didn’t fully understand while still sitting inside it.
And then I kept trying.
That’s the part I keep coming back to.
I was uncomfortable. Nothing clear was coming through. The conversation had become awkward, and I was using more and more words to explain why I couldn’t find the words.
I could have said, “I’m not feeling clear enough to continue this reading. I think we should stop here.”
But I didn’t stop. She had to stop the session for me.
She told me that she didn’t feel a connection with me, and I agreed. We ended it amicably. I told her I wasn’t taking it personally.
Still, I felt embarrassed.
I also felt that I hadn’t been fair to myself. I had noticed my discomfort and continued anyway because I wanted to remain professional. Somewhere in that, I’d made continuing the reading more important than admitting that it wasn’t working.
She gave me the out I hadn’t given myself.
Before we finished, I encouraged her to return to her own oracle cards if she found them helpful. My impression was that she had a deep intuition and a longstanding inner knowing. In my spiritual language, she felt like an old soul, someone carrying the weight of many lessons.
I wondered afterward whether she had wanted confirmation of something she already felt. Maybe she simply wanted the reader she originally came to see.
I don’t know. I never got enough of a conversation with her to understand what she was hoping for.
What I do know is that I continued past the point where I felt comfortable offering a reading.
For me, that day, the words could have been very simple.
No. I’m not comfortable continuing.
That memory came back while I was sitting with the Queen of Swords reversed for this collective reading. Different circumstances, but a familiar feeling. Trying another sentence because the last one didn’t seem to get you anywhere.
So I’m choosing to write this second part to spend a little more time with the messages that came through. You know your life and your circumstances better than I do. If anything, this article is meant to put words to what might already be happening in your head.
I kept getting the throat. Someone with things to say who has chosen to stop speaking.
This could be happening in love or at work, but I was getting friendship very heavily. A girl group. A community. Somewhere you wanted to belong because you thought you’d be around people who understood you.
I kept seeing book clubs, scrapbooking, wellness spaces. A Pilates studio. Something that brings women together, possibly something you love that has also become your work.
And in the middle of this, I’m sensing someone who is being misunderstood.
The Queen of Cups came out upright, and my first thought was, you’re such a pretty girl.
Not necessarily in the way you look. It’s the kind of beauty where you meet someone, get to know her, and realize how much more beautiful she becomes because of who she is. Her opinions. Her tenderness. How she makes people feel when they’re around her.
You’re emotionally intelligent. You understand the nuances of people and their circumstances. You know when to shut up, and you know when to speak up.
I also kept getting pink. Pink might be your color. A little Venusian baby. A Venusian baddie, actually.
Water signs came through here too. And yes, I’m a little biased.
With the Queen of Cups beside the Queen of Swords reversed, I felt someone who still cares very much but is tired of having to establish that she cares before her answer can be accepted.
Sometimes the answer is just no.
In love, this feels like a conversation you’ve already had. You’ve explained yourself gently. You’ve tried being more direct. You’ve waited for a better moment. You’ve approached it from every angle you could think of.
And now it’s, listen. I don’t know how else to tell you this.
I’ve told you what hurts. I’ve told you what I need. I don’t want to keep talking about the same thing.
The Queen of Swords can sound very brash after being pushed too many times. I’m getting someone who knows that if she keeps speaking right now, it’s going to come out sharply. So she’s choosing silence. Or she’s giving a short answer because the longer answer has already been given.
No. Absolutely not.
There might still be love here. Familiarity. You may still be considering forgiveness or wondering whether something can be repaired. But at this moment, I don’t feel that you want to explain yourself again.
With friendship, the Seven of Swords reversed came out underneath the Queen of Cups. That brought me to the possibility of hearing about a conversation you weren’t part of. Gossip. Something that makes you reconsider how comfortable you feel with someone.
A card can’t establish what another person has actually said. But the impression I got was of someone realizing that the warmth she gives may not be returned in the same way.
Maybe you’ve started keeping things to yourself. You don’t want to tell everyone your plans anymore. You don’t want to explain why you’re not coming. You don’t want to offer something personal just to make your absence seem reasonable.
You have things to say. You’re deciding who you feel comfortable saying them to.
The King of Wands came out upright with the Knight of Swords underneath. I felt someone with passion and knowledge. Someone who has studied, trained, or spent a lot of time learning what she does.
An educator. A trainer. Someone in wellness. Someone whose work involves communicating with people and helping them understand something.
You know your subject. But I’m getting an environment where you feel you have to keep proving that you know it.
The Nine of Pentacles reversed brought me to the practical reasons you might still be there. The income. The benefits. The insurance. The routine that supports your life.
You can be emotionally done with a place and still show up because you have responsibilities. I’m wondering where you’ve been agreeing to things because saying no would require another conversation you don’t feel like having.
Another task. Another favor. A business arrangement. Someone asking for more of your time than you intended to give.
Or maybe you’re learning something new, and you feel that being new means you shouldn’t question anything yet.
That part feels familiar to me after my experience in the shop. I was new, and I wanted to demonstrate that I could do the work. I let that influence how long I stayed in a situation that wasn’t working.
The Hierophant reversed kept appearing when I cut the deck. That made me think about the rules of whatever community this is. The expectations you picked up when you joined it. What a good friend does. What a good partner accepts. How someone is supposed to behave if she wants to remain included.
And whether you still agree with those expectations.
Take it from a very moody water sign. I wake up different every single day.
There are things I planned yesterday that today I don’t want to do anymore. Yesterday, I wanted to go. Today, I want to stay home. Sometimes I have a reason I can explain beautifully, and sometimes I just don’t want to.
I can tell someone in time. I can acknowledge that changing plans affects them. But I don’t always want to turn how I’m feeling into a case that needs to be approved.
Of course, there’s nuance. If you have children or someone depends on you, there are responsibilities involved. A child might need more explanation because they’re still learning. They don’t automatically understand why you need space or why the answer has changed.
You can explain a boundary to them while also teaching them that they’re allowed to have one with other people.
But I’m mostly speaking here about adult relationships where you’ve already communicated, and your answer keeps being treated as the beginning of a negotiation.
Earlier in the reading, I also got an impression about sharing your dreams with someone who makes them feel smaller.
Dreams as in your ambitions, but also your actual dreams. The things you wake up remembering. Your imagination. The private things you find meaningful.
The High Priestess came to mind, and I thought about Harry Potter living with the Dursleys. That feeling of having a whole part of yourself that you keep quiet because you know how the people around you will respond.
Everyone doesn’t need to share your beliefs. I’m talking about anticipating dismissal before you’ve even finished a sentence.
Eventually, you may stop bringing those things to that person.
The Eight of Cups felt like refuge. Somewhere you can go without having to explain every part of yourself. A little distance so you can hear what you think before deciding what to say.
That might be why the Queen of Swords is quiet in this reading.
She understands what’s happening. She’s deciding what she wants to participate in.
For the near future, I pulled the Wheel of Fortune. At the bottom of the deck was the Eight of Wands. I got movement here. Possibly a message or a conversation that brings something back up and asks for your response.
And I kept feeling that your response may be much shorter this time.
No.
You may have thought about it so much that there’s very little left to explain.
No is actually one of my favorite words.
I love saying no.
I don’t want to, therefore I won’t.
But that reading reminded me that even a word I love can be difficult to say when I’m worried about disappointing someone or proving myself.
I’m still thinking about how much sooner I could have said it.