Bhairavi’s power lies in creating action for manifestation. Typically, when I feel ready to test my spiritual abilities, I worship her. In response, she sends a person into my life. I have tried this five or six times, and it has worked every time. The person may feel like a tantra practitioner, a spiritual seeker, or anything in between—it doesn’t matter. They come for their own journey’s purpose, and I simply focus on mine.
Even though I am a woman, when I worship Bhairavi, she sends me a Shakti (in man form) while I embody Shiva. Through their playfulness, I experience aspects of my own unseen consciousness. It’s as if there is a space—their presence occupies it, allowing me to become aware of what is empty, and to perceive the boundary between Shiva and Shakti.
I can also serve as their Shakti if needed, but that depends on their intention. Not everyone is drawn to pure tantra; some may seek something else, and that’s perfectly fine. The key for me is to stay focused on what I can learn from each tantric experience.

I use the term karmic partner to emphasize how their vibration level perfectly aligns with mine—not to imply attachment or a lasting relationship. In fact, once I finish learning the lesson, I leave them immediately. Sometimes that’s within a day, sometimes a week or a month, depending on how quickly I can become aware of the lesson. This timeframe is getting shorter, because the more I do this practice, the more I focus on my own mission rather than on that person.

By the way, they will seem extremely attractive within a certain timeframe—almost like a crash feeling—but that passes. It’s not that they become ugly or anything; it’s just that the attraction fades.
They also become more and more powerful as my own strength improves. It’s like in a game: I am a warrior fighting a monster, and as I level up, the monster also becomes harder to defeat.

The lesson to learn is always related to a blind spot, and each time it goes deeper. The first time is usually on the surface level—like psychological or personal defeats—then childhood trauma, ancestral patterns, and eventually collective layers. For example, the last time I saw was war memory.

Then comes cleansing, healing, and learning. For example, the appearance of Dhumavati right afterward often signals a positive resolution. After practicing Mahavidya for two years and engaging with all ten goddesses for at least three cycles, I felt a deeper calling. Once, in a dream, Bhuvaneshwari revealed multiple layers of her body—all converging into the bindu. Those layers resembled the Sri Yantra, which inspired me to begin my Srividya journey—a path even more subtle than Mahavidya.

I’ve stopped sharing my practices and insights, as the process has grown both deeper and faster. At a certain point, I no longer knew how to put it into words, and I also lost interest in seeking social validation as a form of spiritual credit.

This article is simply for fellow Tantra practitioners as a reference—so you know you’re not alone.
Please, please explore the teachings of Dr. Kavitha Chinnaiyan. She is amazing. Her two related books are:
Shakti Rising
Fractals of Reality

I have to say Srividya is much more difficult than Mahavidya and requires more patience for the knowledge; it involves less tantric experience and more meditation. It’s about 70% like Taoism and TCM in terms of how to cultivate Qi. It’s “boring”—but that’s how you know whether a person truly likes “Tantra” or not, and how you see their real intention.