When I was a child I spent hours sitting at the base of the stairs to my parents bedroom. The hall was wide and painted peach. There on the wood stairs I would sit and talk to the the lady. I called her the lady in the hall. I would spend hours talking to her. And from what I remembered she listened. My parents thought she was a pretend friend. And I didn’t know differently until I was older. Until I stopped talking to the lady. And she would stand in the hall and watch us (my sister and I). She creeped us out. She’d just stand and watch us. I had forgotten she was the lady I had spent hours talking to as a child. One day, looking through an old photo albums my sister and I discovered a picture of my father’s mother who had died when he was 10. And we realized the lady in the hall was his mother.
My first crush was Darth Vader. I felt his pain, suffering and sorrow. I can remembering telling my parents that he just needed someone who loved him. If someone could just love him then he wouldn’t be so miserable. I declared that when I grew up I was going to marry him because I could help him. Could this have been an omen to my life’s purpose of helping people?
When I was seven I could have sworn I saw the TARDIS (Doctor Who’s time traveling machine). Excitedly, I ran home to tell my mother. My time had come to join the Doctor on intergalactic adventures. My mother told me that I was hallucinating. I didn’t understand what the word meant. I can remember being angry with her for not believing me. As a child, I always had a vivid and wild imagination. And I was beginning to learn how imagination can assist to escape and heal.
Growing up we lived down the street from a cemetery. At 16, I awoke to a full body apparition at the end of my bed. In hindsight, he was a sweet old man. At the time I was terrified. I prayed for the man to go away and he did. After this incident my dance with the dead ended. But that didn’t mean my empathic tendencies went anywhere. It took me years to understand how empathy was my superpower not my curse.
As an empath, from birth, I always absorbed and took on the emotions of those around me. As a child and into my adult years I yearned to keep everyone happy. Subconsiocusly thinking this would ease my discomfort. It didn’t. In addition, I made people uncomfortable not realizing it was because I just knew stuff about how they were feeling, even when they didn’t. And this lead to a knack for just calling stuff out, saying things that the person hadn’t even realized yet or dealt with. This was silenced when I was a young child, probably because I freaked people out. Both my parents had psychic tendencies but neither believed in. My dad always knew when something bad was going to happen. ALWAYS. He just had a knack for knowing things. And my mom, a brilliant tarot reader, even though she’d say she didn’t believe that it was for fun. She has come to accept her gifts.
Most my life I second guessed my abilities. Stood in other people’s shadows. Afraid that I might say something wrong or incorrect. That someone might call me a fake or a fraud. Not realizing that it wasn’t my job to process or interpret the information. It was the receivers. And the receiver has the ability to believe or disbelieve depending on how receptive and open they are.
Most my life, unable to control my mutant power. I retreated. I have always been a introvert, I just became a recluse. I still felt everything. I could not hid from it. I was miserable. I overate. Self loathed. Stayed in emotionally abusive relationships for too many years. Swallowed everything. Like a caterpillar I slowly shed my cocoon. I worked with mentors. Read books. Developed supportive relationships. And now I use my gift to help people. To connect. To facilitate healing. My intuition guides me and supports me in guiding and supporting others.