The Power of Reading Someone’s Energetic Field is Easier Than You Think.

Before I trust words, I trust temperature.

I was raised in the hood, where you learn to read energy before language, and then I spent twenty years working inside a Devil Wears Prada world of fashion media and advertising — where the same instincts apply. Those two educations taught me the same thing: people tell you who they are long before they say it out loud, if you know how to read the field.

It’s something I learned long before I could articulate it — the ability to sense warmth in someone’s field, or the absence of it. Not metaphorical warmth. Actual, physical, energetic warmth. The kind you feel the moment you hug someone, stand close to them, or sit beside them.

The body doesn’t lie in proximity.

Over the years, I’ve learned to use touch — a brief hug, a handshake, a moment of closeness — not as affection, but as information. It’s data. The nervous system running a fast scan: safe or unsafe, open or closed, alive or deadened.

And there is one pattern I’ve learned to trust above all others.

Safety has a somatic signature. Men who are unsafe with women have a stillness that goes beyond calm into the territory of being un-feeling.

To me and my highly trained body - its an energetic void.

The energy of a safe man is alive, responsive, flowing. You feel met. Seen. Received. There’s a softness in the contact, even when they’re strong. Both bodies relax without effort.

Men who don’t like women — and there are many more than we want to admit — feel different.

Not still.
Dead.

The contact is cold, flat, absent. Not grounded, not calm — just empty. Like touching a wall. Like something switched off. And no amount of charm, politeness, or “good guy” behaviour can mask it once you’ve felt it.

This isn’t about sexual orientation.
It’s about relational orientation.

Some men move through the world relating to women as objects, resources, mirrors, or threats. Their bodies give them away long before their words do. They may say all the right things, but there is no warmth in the exchange. No reciprocity. No life force flowing back.

When you hug them, nothing comes back.

This is the predictor I trust now.

Not chemistry.
Not conversation.
Not intention.

Warmth.

I’ve also learned that women often override this signal because it’s subtle. Because it’s not dramatic. Because we’ve been trained to prioritise politeness over perception. We tell ourselves we’re imagining it. We assume we’re being harsh, judgemental, unfair.

But the body isn’t judging — it’s measuring.

And once you learn to read fields, you stop needing time to tell you what’s already obvious in the first thirty seconds.

The work, as always, is not becoming more sensitive.

It’s becoming more honest about what you feel.

Because when someone’s field is warm, your body opens naturally.
When it isn’t, you close — and that closing is not fear.
It’s intelligence.

Touch, used well, is not intimacy.
It’s assessment.

And once you trust it, you stop giving access to people who have nothing to give back.