- Jul 21
- 2 min read

In my post today, I spoke about the 3 of Swords in its reversed position. It’s a card most people don’t like to see in their readings, and that’s fair — upright, it can speak to heartbreak, betrayal, or emotional pain. But when reversed, it can feel even more uncomfortable. Why? Because it suggests pain that hasn’t been properly dealt with. It’s not always fresh — just unresolved. We carry it, sometimes quietly, without ever really tending to it.
In that post, I shared something personal. Years ago, I fell out with a close friend — someone I’d known for over twenty years. We hadn’t spoken in four years when I found out she had died.
She could be difficult, and I won’t sugarcoat that. At the root of our fall-out was a pattern: when she didn’t get her own way, she would throw tantrums. A lot of people danced around that behaviour, but I didn’t. I called it out — and eventually, I walked away.
That said, our friendship wasn’t all conflict. We laughed a lot. There was affection, history, real tenderness. Underneath everything, I think she was insecure — and that often showed up in entitled or explosive ways. The last thing she said to me was cruel, and I don’t regret creating distance. But still, I wish I’d seen her before she died. I wish I’d had the chance to say: I loved you, despite everything.
That’s the 3 of Swords reversed — the pain you carry even after you’ve moved on. It’s grief with teeth. Not just mourning a person, but mourning the version of them you needed and didn’t get. Mourning the version of the relationship you hoped it could be.
Why is this coming up now? Because I can feel the presence of resentment in other areas of my life — situations and people who have hurt me, and where I’m still quietly holding on to that ache. The card invites me to ask: Do I confront that pain? Do I make peace with it? Or do I let it live in me, festering beneath the surface?
For many of us, the reversed 3 of Swords isn’t just about heartbreak. It’s about wounds we’ve buried. The dull ache we’ve stopped acknowledging. The pain that no longer bleeds, but never really healed.
© Steven Bright, 2025