My Reading Journey

As a child I was not aware of being any different. When I would say the things I "felt" to those around me, they would either look at me like I was crazy or just tell me I was weird. After a couple of those weirdo comments I quickly learned not to talk about what I felt and "knew", so I kept that part of me a secret. 

I first understood what I could do when I was a teenager. I was at a party and had a very strong feeling that I had to tell one of the kids something. I did not know this kid, but the feeling was so strong I walked over and told him. I can not remember all or exactly what I said to him, but it had something to do with a couch, throwing him in the air and not being his fault. He looked at me and asked how I knew what I told him, I said I just had a feeling. 

I then asked if it meant something to him. He said it had to do with his Grandfather who passed when he was six. When his parents would take him to his grandparents, his grandfather would always meet them out in the drive. This kid would run to his grandfather who would swoop him up, throw him into the air and then place him back on his feet. On this particular day this kid asked him to do it again, but his grandfather said he didn't feel well enough. As most children would he begged for just one more time adding a couple of pleases. His grandfather said alright one more time and started the traditional count; 1, 2.... he ran into his arms was thrown up into the air and set back down on his feet. Once his grandfather set him down we went into the house, laid down on the couch and had a massive heart attack and passed. 

This kid has always felt like it was his fault and that if he hadn't asked for another toss his grandfather would not have died. I would have thought that this kid was messing with me except he was crying as he was telling me his story. The kid was from out of town he came to the party with his grandmother's neighbor. He gave me a hug and thanked me for telling him, I never saw him again. It made my heart so happy to help the grandfather get his message to his grandson.

I tried this out a couple more times and almost every time what I felt to tell the person actually meant something. I quickly learned that some people were not comfortable to hear things that I could not possibly know. Those experiences hurt my heart, it was devastating not to be able to share the love. On top of that I still had people turn away from me if they heard I talked to Spirit.

I started keeping my cards close to my chest and only shared when the feeling was to strong to hold back. When I did share I started to speak mostly through my sisters and best friends. I felt like I was shielding myself by using a messenger. 

One year, my Mom gave me a reading for Christmas. At that reading I actually gave the reader a reading. He told me I needed to share my gift and talked me into giving readings. I was very hesitant, but decided I would read only when he came to town. It went well as these people actually wanted to talk to Spirit. Once he stopped coming to town, I stopped reading because I lost the scheduling host and their venue.   

Throughout the following eighteen years I felt an increasing call to do readings again. It was a call at first and I was able to push it away. The call became a nudge, then a push and after that a shove. It's not that I didn't want to do readings, it's that I didn't want people to think I am anything but myself. Throughout the years I have had people tell me I am amazing or special and treat me oddly, I am not anything but my own dorky self. God, the universe, is the great one who has given us amazing gifts, the only difference is I am just crazy enough to believe what I feel and say it out loud.