I kept hearing people at church say “soul tie.” It sounded heavy. And a little spooky. I asked, is this even in the Bible? So I tested it in my own life. I read the stories, prayed through it, and tried real steps. Some parts felt real and helpful. Some parts… not so much. And for anyone else asking the same question, here’s a straightforward deep-dive that helped me frame my experiment: are “soul ties” actually biblical?
Let me explain.
So, what’s a soul tie to me?
A soul tie feels like a strong bond between people. It can be loving, like family. It can be romantic. It can be messy too. In the Bible, it shows up in different ways.
- David and Jonathan: their souls were “knit” together as friends.
- Ruth and Naomi: deep loyalty that said, “Where you go, I go.”
- Jacob and Rachel: love so strong it shaped years of his life.
- Paul’s warning: sex makes two people “one flesh,” even without love.
- Samson and Delilah: desire that blinded him, and it cost him.
- Solomon and his many wives: his heart got pulled away from God.
Real talk: lots of people try to dodge emotional fallout by sticking to no-strings-attached hookups—maybe even scrolling a directory of local escorts that lays out verified profiles, prices, and reviews so a person can set up a meeting on clear, informed terms—yet the heart often registers connection even when the mind insists it’s just business. If you’re in Orange County, for instance, it takes ten seconds to open Bedpage Laguna Hills and browse a fresh stream of ads—seeing that lineup upfront helps you gauge just how effortless casual encounters can be and reminds you to weigh the emotional cost before tapping “send.”
Those stories helped me name what I felt. A tie can build you up. Or it can pull you down.
My real story: the ex, the hoodie, and late-night texts
I dated a guy in college. We broke up, but my heart didn’t get the memo. I kept his gray hoodie. It smelled like his cologne. Dumb detail, but smells are sticky.
We’d text at midnight. It wasn’t love. It was habit. It felt like I was tied to a chair. I’d say I was fine. Then a song from “our playlist” would play at the grocery store, and boom—sad again. Some of the scriptures that steadied me came from this heart-level roundup of Bible verses for broken relationships that a mentor forwarded my way.
What helped me? Small, clear moves:
- I prayed with a friend. I said out loud what still hurt.
- I returned the hoodie. Yep, I did.
- I deleted the playlist. Silence felt weird, then good.
- I wrote a short note to myself: “This chapter is closed.”
- I took a one-month no-contact break. Not forever. Just long enough for my brain to reset.
After that, the 2 a.m. “miss you?” texts didn’t tug me as hard. You know what? I could breathe.
Another one: a friendship that felt like glue
I had a friend who knew every thought I had before I had it. We shared everything. It was sweet at first. Then I noticed I said “we” all the time. I stopped making my own plans. If she was sad, my whole day sank. We never gossiped, but the constant whisper-level sharing got blurry—an eye-opening reminder after I read a short piece on what the Bible says about gossip.
That’s not how good ties work. Think Ruth and Naomi. Ruth chose love, but she still stood as her own person. So I set one simple rule: I’d reply when I had time, not right away every time. I spoke up when I disagreed. It felt awkward for two weeks. Then it felt like balance.
Bible moments that shaped my view
- 1 Samuel 18: Jonathan and David show a healthy, loyal bond.
- Ruth 1: Ruth shows love with strong choice and clear words.
- Genesis 29–30: Jacob and Rachel show how love can steer big life calls.
- 1 Corinthians 6: “One flesh” is not a small thing. It sticks.
- Judges 16: Samson’s desire fogged his mind and cost him his strength.
- 1 Kings 11: Solomon’s loves pulled his heart away. That part stings.
And when I felt the itch to clap back or post something petty after a breakup, I kept circling back to a handful of Bible verses about revenge that cooled me down before I did something dumb.
I’m not here to scare you. I’m here to say: bonds matter. They shape us.
What actually helped me, step by step
- Pray honest, short prayers: “God, show me what’s mine to keep, and what’s mine to release.”
- Write one page: “What do I want from this tie? What do I fear?”
- Do a gentle fast: 30 days without their socials or old photos.
- Return or box up tokens: hoodies, notes, gifts that keep me stuck.
- Replace the gap: new playlist, a walk at the time we used to text, a hobby that uses my hands.
- Read a Psalm each night. I liked Psalm 27 and Psalm 139, or soak in a few Bible verses about grace when the mess feels extra loud.
- Talk to a wise person: pastor, counselor, or the aunt who tells the truth.
- If there was sex in the bond, be extra kind to your heart. It’s sticky by design. Slow is normal.
I also read a couple of books people at my church love: The Bondage Breaker by Neil T. Anderson, and Boundaries by Cloud and Townsend. Different styles, both helpful for me.
I also found the consistently down-to-earth wisdom on Barnabas.net to be a solid companion when I needed quick, biblical perspective between chapters.
What I liked about the “soul tie” idea
- It gives language for that “why can’t I move on?” feeling.
- It shows love isn’t only feelings; it’s bonds, choices, history.
- It reminds me that sex is not casual for my heart.
What bugged me
- People can use it to shame others. Not cool.
- It can sound vague, like a magic cord. I needed real steps, not fear.
- Sometimes folks blame a “tie” when the problem is simple: we keep texting.
So I treat it like a tool. Not a hammer for every nail. Not a ghost story.
Little signs I watch for now
- Do I lose my voice in this bond?
- Do I hide this bond from people who love me?
- Do I feel peace after we talk, or do I feel fog and fear?
- Can I say “no” and still feel safe?
If I can’t answer well, I pause. I ask for help. Simple as that. Well, simple-ish.
Who might find this helpful
- You miss an ex but don’t want them back. Your heart’s still hooked.
- You have a friend who runs your calendar, and maybe your brain.
- You had sex and now the feelings feel huge and tangled.
- You want to love well without losing yourself.
My verdict
I give “soul ties in the Bible” as a working tool: 4 out of 5. It’s not perfect. But it helped me name bonds, heal a few, and keep the good ones strong. I’m still learning. Some days I get pulled back by a song, or a smell, or a memory. I breathe. I pray. I text a friend, not the ex. Then I keep going.
Honestly, that’s what love looks like for me now—tied, but on purpose.