Now that you know how to read Tarot for yourself, you might be ready to take the next step: reading Tarot for someone else.
This is a big moment, and I’m going to be direct with you: it’s not just about technical skill.
You can know all 78 cards by heart, have razor-sharp intuition, and years of personal practice… and still miss what matters most.
Reading Tarot for someone means holding something delicate: the vulnerability of a person seeking clarity in a moment when they desperately need it.
And with that trust comes a responsibility you need to be aware of.
So before you pull out your deck for your best friend who’s struggling to see clearly and needs your help—let’s take time to lay the foundation for readings that are ethical and genuinely helpful.
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This is the Hippocratic Oath, Tarot edition. Primum non nocere: first, do no harm.
When someone sits down across from you for a reading, something particular happens: they grant you a form of authority.
They assume you have access to something they don’t. They come with the idea that Tarot—and you, wielding it—can generate information they can’t access themselves.
This belief creates an asymmetry. The person naturally places themselves “below”—you’re the one with the knowledge, the access, the ability to see what they can’t see.
And this position makes them suggestible. Your words carry a weight they wouldn’t have in a normal conversation.
I remember a woman who told me she’d consulted a psychic—paid her good money—who predicted her partner would become violent.
She came to see me completely destabilized: on one hand, she was living with a man she described as “lovely” and not violent at all.
On the other, this prediction echoed in her head, creating toxic doubt about a relationship that was actually going well.
She didn’t know what to believe anymore: her lived experience or the words of a “professional” who had seen “something” in the cards.
Your responsibility is to never position yourself as “the one who knows.”
The truth: you know nothing about this person, their life, what they’re really going through. The expert on her life is her. Not you.
Concretely, this means:
Avoid definitive, catastrophic language
Stay humble: you read cards, you don’t hold absolute truth
Weigh your words before you release them
Ask yourself “How will this person receive what I’m about to say?”
Tarot naturally attracts people during periods of uncertainty or anxiety. They come looking for clarity, not an extra layer of anxiety.
Your job isn’t to reassure at all costs, but it’s certainly not to feed the catastrophe machine and pile on more worry.
The Tower? The Ten of Swords? The Devil? These cards aren’t curses. They describe dynamics, challenges, necessary passages. How you present them makes all the difference between someone who leaves with a useful insight and someone who goes home with more fear than when they arrived.
Example:
Instead of saying: “Oh no, the Tower… This is going to be a very difficult period… brace yourself for the worst.”
Try: “The Tower talks about a structure collapsing—often something that needed to collapse to make room for something new. It’s uncomfortable, sometimes even hard, but we can look at how to help you find your way through this transition.”
The difference? In the first case, a diffuse, paralyzing fear settles in.
In the second, you name an uncomfortable reality while putting it in perspective.
The golden rule: leaving someone more anxious than when they arrived is never the goal.
People react how they react, and you don’t control everything.
But if your way of presenting messages consistently amplifies fear instead of opening possibilities, there’s something to reconsider in your approach.
What my practice as a professional Tarot reader taught me: a good Tarot session is 70% listening and 30% interpretation.
At the beginning, I focused so much on what I was going to say, on the “brilliant” interpretation I wanted to give… I forgot to actually listen to the person in front of me.
Active listening means:
The cards don’t speak in a vacuum.
They speak in the context of a life, a situation, a question. The more you’re interested in that context, the more you understand it, the more accurate and useful your reading will be.
And sometimes—often, even—the person finds their own answers while talking.
Your role then becomes creating a space for dialogue by doing what we naturally do for friends when we listen:
The cards serve as catalyst, but it’s the listening—and the safe space created by listening—that makes the magic.
Here’s the principle that should guide your entire reading: the person in front of you is in control. Not you.
They’re the expert on their life. They know their context, their challenges, their resources.
Deep down, they know what’s right for them.
Your role isn’t to tell them what to do or what’s going to happen.
Your role is to help them access the knowledge they already have.
What does this look like concretely?
It starts with the question asked of Tarot.
“Will he come back?” “Will I get this job?” “Will I meet someone this year?”
You’ll hear these questions constantly because, spontaneously, querents tend to frame things this way given Tarot’s “divination” reputation.
These questions all have the same problem: they place the person in a position of passive waiting. As if their life was something happening to them, with nothing they can do about it.
Your mission: transform these closed questions into open explorations.
“Will he come back?” → “What really happened in this relationship?” “What would be good for me right now?”
“Will I get this job?” → “How can you position yourself best in the hiring process?” “What kind of role would truly suit you?”
“Will I meet someone?” → “What’s keeping me from meeting someone right now?” “How can I make the most of this solo period?”
See the difference?
The first format seeks prediction.
The second opens space for reflection and action. It repositions the person as an actor in their life, not a spectator.
Of course, you need to do this tactfully.
Don’t make them feel their question is “stupid” or “badly phrased.”
But you can say something like: “I understand your question. I’d like to explore this theme from this angle instead, because I think it’ll be more useful for you. What do you think?”
Most of the time, people are on board. Because deep down, they know Tarot isn’t a crystal ball. They’re mostly looking for someone to help them see more clearly what they’re already feeling.
But “querent in control” mode doesn’t stop at reframing the question.
And now, the hardest advice for basically every beginner Tarot reader: learn to be quiet.
Seriously.
When you’ve given an interpretation, a perspective, stop and let the person react.
Don’t fill the silence with more explanations, more interpretations, more details.
Let the space breathe.
Because the person in front of you isn’t there for a monologue. They’re there to clarify what’s happening inside them. And for that, they need to TALK.
Silence is uncomfortable. You’ll want to fill it. Resist that urge.
In that silence, magical things happen:
Your job is to create and hold that space. Not to fill it.
Here’s how to do it concretely:
After each card or section of the reading, pause. Systematically ask what they think: “Does this resonate?” “What does this bring up for you?” Then let your querent speak.
Build on their intuitions rather than imposing yours. If they say “This card makes me think of my relationship with my mother,” even if you saw a work situation, explore THEIR lead. It’s their unconscious, their internal compass speaking through Tarot—and that’s so precious when it happens!
If they sense something different from what you see, listen to them. It’s their life, their reading. They have access to information you don’t. Your interpretation is just an offering, not revealed truth.
If they nuance it, correct it, or even contradict it, that’s excellent news: they’re claiming ownership of the reading.
Don’t move forward with your interpretation until they’ve had time and space to react, to say what they’re feeling, to make the connections that emerge for them.
A good reading is a dialogue, not a lecture. If you’re talking 90% of the time, you’re off track.
My ideal ratio? They talk as much—if not more—than me. 😊
One last thing: forget the mystical Tarot reader who rolls out extraordinary revelations! 😄
Your job isn’t to impress.
Your job isn’t to be spectacular.
Your job isn’t even to be right.
Your job is to be present, listening, in resonance, and respectful of the person in front of you.
The best sessions aren’t the ones where you “shined.” They’re the ones where the person left with a bit more clarity about themselves, a bit more peace, a bit more understanding of their situation.
If you keep that in mind—don’t position yourself as the expert, don’t feed fear, put the person in control, actually give them space to speak—you’re on the right path: the path of ethical Tarot.
The rest is practice. A lot of practice. And a permanent dose of humility.
Now, go ahead. The cards are waiting. And there are people around you who need your listening and the safe space you’re going to create for them. 🤗
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