Let’s be real—we’ve all been there. It’s 11 PM, you’re curled up on the couch with a half-empty bowl of popcorn, mindlessly scrolling TikTok, and suddenly your feed i;s flooded with videos of people screaming, “This soulmate sketch led me to my husband!” Half of you cringes, thinking, “That’s total nonsense—how can a drawing find someone’s ‘one’?” But the other half—let’s admit it, the part that’s tired of swiping left on dating apps and pretending “being single is fine”—thinks, “What if? What if this is the weird, random thing that actually works?”
I’m that person. Single for two years, my “manifest a cool, kind partner” strategy was basically just staring at my plants and hoping a good human would materialize (spoiler: they didn’t). My friends kept joking that I’d “meet someone when I least expect it,” but “least expecting it” was turning into “forgetting what a first date even feels like.” So when I saw yet another soulmate sketch video pop up—this time from a girl who swore she’d married the guy in the drawing—I thought, Screw it. Let’s do this.
I decided to order three soulmate sketches from three wildly different sources: an AI-powered service, a self-proclaimed “psychic visionary” on Etsy, and that viral service you’ve definitely seen advertised between your Instagram reels. My goal? Not just to see what they drew—but to put them to the ultimate real-world test: Could any of these sketches actually help me find a match? Spoiler: One gave me a specific detail I can’t stop obsessing over, and by the end, I was launching a global search for a guy with a very unique feature.
Step 1: The Ordering Process (Or, How I “Bought” My Potential Future Partner)
First things first: I had to hand over my money (and a little dignity) to three different services, each promising to sketch the love of my life. Let me tell you—each experience felt like stepping into a totally different world.
The AI Artist: Sleek, Fast, and Low-Stakes
I started with the AI service because it felt the “safest”—no vague talk of “cosmic energy,” just algorithms and data. The website was futuristic, with neon blues and phrases like “Powered by 10,000+ relationship data points.” It asked for basic info: my name, birthdate, and a single question: “What’s one trait you value most in a partner?” I typed “kindness” (boring, I know, but I’m over the “mysterious bad boy” phase).
The whole process took 2 minutes. No waiting, no over-the-top promises—just a confirmation email that said, “Your soulmate sketch will be delivered in 5 minutes.” The cost? $19.99—about what I’d spend on a couple of sad happy-hour cocktails at the bar down the street. I hit “pay” and waited, half-expecting a pixelated mess.
The Psychic Visionary: Etsy, Cosmic Vibes, and a Lot of Anticipation
Next, I went full mystical. I searched Etsy for “soulmate sketch psychic” and sorted by “highest rated.” The first result was a seller named “Luna’s Cosmic Visions,” with a profile picture of a woman in a flowy dress holding a crystal, and testimonials like, “She drew my soulmate—I met him 3 months later at a farmers’ market!” The reviews were glowing—over 500 five-star ratings—and the description promised she’d “tap into your soul’s energy to visualize the person you’re meant to be with.”
This process was way more dramatic. Instead of a quick form, I had to send a message to Luna with my name, birthdate, and a “brief note about your current heart space.” I wrote, “I’m open, but tired of feeling like I’m looking for a needle in a haystack.” She replied within an hour, saying she’d “begin channeling your energy tomorrow” and that the sketch would take 48 hours. The cost? $45—steeper than the AI, but I figured if it worked, it was a steal for love.
The Viral Sensation: Infomercial Energy and “Proven Results”
Last, I caved and went for the one everyone’s seen: that viral service with the mysterious “master artist” who claims to have “helped 10,000+ people find their soulmates.” You know the ads—they pop up on Facebook, TikTok, even YouTube—with people holding up sketches and crying, “This is him! This is the man I married!”
The website felt like an infomercial. Bright red buttons that said “GET YOUR SKETCH NOW,” videos of the “artist” (face blurred, voice deepened) talking about “divine connections,” and a countdown timer that said “Only 23 sketches left today!” (Spoiler: The timer reset when I refreshed the page.) The order form was simple—name, birthdate, email—and it promised delivery in 24 hours. The cost? $29.99, plus a “special offer” to get a “personality profile” for an extra $10 (I passed). I hit “buy” with a healthy dose of skepticism—this felt like the most likely to be a scam, but I had to test it.
Step 2: The Reveals (One Sketch Had a Scar—Wait, What?)
Over the next 48 hours, my inbox became my most-checked app. I’d refresh it while waiting in line for coffee, while brushing my teeth, even while watching TV. When the first email hit, my hands were actually shaking. Let’s break down each “soulmate” one by one—because the differences were wild, and one of them left me genuinely shocked.
Contestant #1: The AI Hottie (Perfect, But Too Perfect)
The first email was from the AI service, sent exactly 5 minutes after I ordered—efficient, if nothing else. I clicked the attachment, held my breath, and… wow. He was handsome. Like, “I’d stop scrolling if I saw him on Tinder” handsome.
The sketch was hyper-realistic, almost like a photo. He had dark, wavy hair that fell just above his eyebrows, intense hazel eyes, and a jawline so sharp it looked like it was designed by a video game developer. His smile was soft, not too wide, and he was wearing a plain white t-shirt (classic, safe, totally my type). But there was something about him—he looked too perfect. No flaws, no little quirks—just a generic “hot guy” that could’ve been pulled from a catalog.
Then I read the personality description: “Your soulmate is a passionate and driven individual with a creative spirit. He is fiercely loyal to those he loves and has a surprisingly goofy sense of humor that he only reveals to a chosen few. He enjoys spontaneous adventures (like road trips to the coast) but also cherishes quiet nights in, where he’ll cook you pasta and put on your favorite movie.”
I’ll admit—it was compelling. Goofy, loyal, cooks pasta? That’s basically my dream man. But here’s the thing: it was too vague. It’s the plot of every romantic comedy ever made. It’s the kind of description that could fit 90% of the guys I’ve dated. Fun? Yes. Useful? Not really. I saved the sketch to my phone, but I didn’t hold my breath.Contestant #2: The Psychic’s Gentle Guy (Human, Specific, and Shocking)
Two days later, at 9 AM on a Tuesday, I got an email from Luna with the subject line: “Your Soulmate—Channeled With Love.” My heart raced as I opened it. The sketch was nothing like the AI’s—it was a soft pencil drawing, with messy lines and subtle shading. It felt human, like someone had actually sat down and put thought into it.
And the guy? He looked familiar, in the best way. Dark hair, but straighter than the AI’s, with a few strands falling over his forehead. Kind, warm eyes—brown, not hazel—and a faint five-o’clock shadow that made him look like someone you’d run into at a bookstore, not a magazine cover.
But the real kicker was the description. Luna wrote: “I’m sensing a very gentle and calming energy from your soulmate. He is an old soul—someone who likes vinyl records and long walks more than loud parties. He works in a field where he helps others—my intuition says a teacher (maybe elementary school?) or a counselor. You will meet him through a mutual friend within the next six to eight months—probably at a casual gathering, like a backyard BBQ or a game night. And here’s something important: he has a small, circular scar above his left eyebrow—about the size of a pencil eraser. It’s from a childhood accident, and he’ll laugh when he tells you about it.”
I re-read that last part three times. A scar? Above his left eyebrow? A specific job? A timeline? That’s not vague—that’s testable. The AI and the viral service had given me generic “good guy” vibes, but this? This was a clue. A real, tangible thing to look for. I stared at the sketch for 10 minutes, trying to picture him—what his laugh sounded like, if he really did like vinyl, if that scar was as noticeable as Luna said. For the first time, this didn’t feel like a silly experiment. It felt like a mission.
Contestant #3: The Viral Generic Guy (Disappointing, But Predictable)
The next morning, I got the email from the viral service. I opened it with low expectations, and… yep, they were met. The sketch was digital, airbrushed, and eerily similar to the AI’s—dark hair, strong jaw, soulful eyes—but there was something off. He looked like a stock photo of “handsome man,” not a real person. I could’ve swapped his face with the AI’s guy, and I doubt anyone would notice.
The personality description was even worse: “Your soulmate is a man of great confidence and charisma. He is a leader in his field—maybe tech or finance—and draws people to him with his magnetic personality. He is adventurous and loves to travel (he’s been to 20+ countries!) and is looking for a partner who can keep up with his fast-paced lifestyle. He’s also a foodie and will take you to the best hidden restaurants in the city.”
It was a word salad of “desirable traits.” Magnetic, leader, traveler, foodie—none of it felt real. There were no specifics, no little quirks, no scar, no timeline. It was like they’d pulled a list of “things people want in a partner” from the internet and mashed them together. I wasn’t angry—I was just disappointed. This felt like a cash grab, pure and simple. I saved the sketch to my phone, but I immediately forgot about it.
Step 3: The Comparison (Why the Psychic’s Sketch Won)
After I had all three sketches, I printed them out and taped them to my fridge—partly for laughs, partly to see if I could spot any patterns. Let’s break down the pros and cons of each:
Sketch Source Art Style Personality Description Specificity Vibe
AI Artist Hyper-realistic, digital, no flaws Generic “good guy” (loyal, goofy, adventurous) 0/10—no specifics Like a video game character
Psychic Visionary Soft pencil, human-drawn, messy Specific (old soul, helping job, scar) 10/10—timeline, job, physical trait Like a real person you’d meet
Viral Sensation Airbrushed, digital, generic Word salad (charismatic, traveler, foodie) 1/10—only “leader in his field” is vague Like a stock photo
The winner was obvious: the psychic’s sketch. The AI and viral ones were fun to look at, but they felt like entertainment—nothing more. The psychic’s, though? It had heart. It had details. It gave me something to look for, not just daydream about.
But here’s the thing: I didn’t want to just sit around and wait for a guy with a scar to fall out of the sky. I’m not that patient, and “six to eight months” feels like an eternity when you’re tired of being single. So I came up with a plan—a crazy, maybe even desperate plan, but a plan nonetheless.
Step 4: The Real-World Test (Launching a Global Search for “Scar Guy”)
This is where you come in. I’m officially launching a search party for the man in the psychic’s sketch. Let’s recap the details, so you know what to look for:
- Looks: Dark, straight hair; kind brown eyes; faint five-o’clock shadow; small circular scar above his left eyebrow (about the size of a pencil eraser).
- Job: Probably a teacher (elementary school, maybe?) or a counselor—someone who works with people and helps others.
- Personality: An old soul—likes vinyl records, long walks, quiet nights over loud parties. Calm, gentle, has a good sense of humor.
- How we’ll meet: Through a mutual friend, at a casual gathering (backyard BBQ, game night) in the next 6–8 months.
If you know this guy—if you’re friends with him, if you went to school with him, if you’ve met him at a coffee shop—tell him about this. If you are this guy—if you’re reading this right now, tracing that scar on your eyebrow and thinking, “Wait, that sounds like me”—my DMs are open. On Instagram, on TikTok, on Twitter—find me.
Think of it as a global game of “Guess Who?” but with my love life on the line. It’s silly, I know. It’s probably a long shot. But isn’t that what love is? A long shot? A weird, random, “this could never work” thing that sometimes does?
Step 5: Let’s Talk—What Do You Think?
I need your help, not just to find this guy, but to talk through this whole experiment. So let’s chat in the comments:
1. Team AI, Team Psychic, or Team Viral? Which sketch do you think is the most plausible? Do you think any of these could actually lead to finding a match?
2. Have you ever tried something weird to find love? A dating app that uses astrology? A blind date set up by a stranger? Tell me your story—I need to feel less alone in my chaos.
3. What’s your “non-negotiable” trait in a partner? For me, it’s kindness (hence why I told the AI that). What’s yours?
And one more thing: Subscribe to my channel and hit the notification bell. Because if—by some miracle—I actually meet this guy, if that scar is real, if he really likes vinyl and cooks pasta, you need to see that update video. We’ll sit down, talk about how we met, and I’ll ask him about that childhood accident that gave him the scar. It’ll be chaotic, it’ll be emotional, and it’ll probably be a little cringey—but it’ll be real.
Conclusion: Do Soulmate Sketches Actually Work?
After all this—after spending $95 on three sketches, after taping them to my fridge, after launching a global search for a guy with a scar—I keep coming back to one question: Can a sketch really predict your perfect match?
The honest answer? I don’t know. Maybe the psychic’s sketch is just a lucky guess. Maybe that scar is a detail she uses in every drawing, to make it feel specific. Maybe I’ll never meet that guy, and this will just be a funny story I tell at parties.
But here’s what I do know: This experiment has been surprisingly fun. It’s taken the pressure off dating. Instead of stressing about swiping left or right, I’m laughing at the idea of “Scar Guy” out there somewhere, and wondering if we’ll cross paths. It’s brought a sense of joy back into the process—something I’d lost after two years of being single.
And isn’t that the point? Whether these sketches work or not, they tap into a universal desire: to believe that someone is out there for us. That we’re not just scrolling, not just waiting, but that there’s a person who’s looking for us too—even if we have to find them through a silly pencil sketch and a global internet search.
So here’s to the long shots. Here’s to the weird experiments. Here’s to “Scar Guy,” wherever he is. And here’s to you—for reading this, for laughing with me, for helping me look.
A girl can dream, right? Thanks for being part of this crazy ride. Let’s find that guy.
