this is how it all began

When I was very young I didn’t have the capacity to understand my paranormal experiences. My earliest memories of people in spirit visiting me was when I was 5 years old. They would appear in my bedroom as I was falling asleep, I would notice their presence and I would freeze in terror hoping that they wouldn’t see me. I would pull the sheets over my head, hold my breath and eventually fall asleep covered in sweat. I would witness them walking around my room; there were so many shadows milling about. They would sit beside me on my single mattress, alone in the dark. I could hear them talking to each other for hours but they were too far away to comprehend. These events happened nightly throughout my childhood, into my teens and sometimes, still to this day. I have had a lifetime filled with visits from people in spirit and it has changed me in ways that I could not imagine. I was chronically anxious, unsettled and frightened. As a child, I was terrorized by people in spirit. They didn’t hurt me; they were there, lurking in the dark, frequently waking me out of my sleep. I was so scared that I didn’t tell anyone in my family. I didn’t know what was happening, all I knew was that I was petrified of shadows parading around my room every night. 

Looking back on my paranormal experiences that started at 5 years of age, I would not have wildly guessed that I would work in my profession today. I didn’t identify as a psychic and I seriously didn’t know what a medium was. I thought psychics were gifted, special human beings deemed worthy of a unique supernatural power. The nightly events and daily premonitions kept coming and by the time I was in my late twenties I had had enough. At that time, I still had not told a single soul in my life. In fact, I desperately pleaded to the heavens, to stop it from happening. I wished it away. I made up fictitious spells to stop it from occurring. I did everything within my power to escape it. It got louder and even more invasive which I didn't believe was possible. I felt desperate, alone and unstable. These kinds of things don’t happen to healthy individuals. I started researching and voraciously reading anything that I could get my hands on so I could identify myself. I needed to meet other people like me, others who had these same bizarre nightly visits, those who were just as terrified as I was. I studied a variety of energetic modalities but none of them helped me see myself. None of them were classes for psychic ability because I never believed for a hot second that I was a gifted, special human being deemed worthy of a unique supernatural power. I met with an infinite number of healers and so-called psychics to find solace, support and understanding. 

Repeatedly, I was told by these people that;
“What you're experiencing couldn’t possibly be happening, stop lying! You're not a psychic or a medium.” 

I was so very vulnerable and I kept being met with the same judgement and bullying by numerous members within multiple spiritual communities. 

The pieces started to come together painfully slowly. In one of my Reiki classes the teacher asked us to focus on a person’s name to send them distance healing. All the teacher gave was a name, nothing else. When the exercise was over I described in detail the person we had sent healing to; I could see their appearance, hair style, age, they wore glasses and that they were in a wheelchair. The teacher, a well known psychic medium, affirmed all of my details that I gave and he neglected to tell me that these details were due to my psychic abilities. I remember the exercise vividly and even then, I ignored it because the teacher did too. 

My intuitive experiences were endless. When a family member or friend noticed them, it was followed by name calling and skepticism. I took a few classes, adding up to a handful over my lifetime which didn’t impact my abilities or help me develop them. I learned from people in spirit and from exploring my abilities on my own. I needed someone to see me, to acknowledge what was happening, to embrace me and tell me that it was going to be okay. I needed to know that this was normal, not a sign of weakness or an unstable mind.  

My experiences left me feeling desperately alone and insecure. I questioned everything about myself on a constant basis. I couldn’t identify who I was or my experiences no matter where I searched. When I stopped reaching out to sources around me was when the work began. 

Lots of love,
Ursula xo