This story begins many years ago in what used to be a very small town in Connecticut – Wallingford. My family had several acres of land and we lived in a two story house that was built by my grandfather and father. I have early memories of playing in a huge field of daisies that was our backyard. Each Spring they would bloom in all their glory, and I would go around picking each delicate flower to make a bouquet for my mother, who was often baking something delicious inside our house.
My grandparents lived in our basement for a few years. I don’t remember how long, but one day they were gone and I didn’t know why. By the age of three or four years old, I began having night terrors. I was so afraid to go to sleep, that I would pray to God each night to keep me safe as I surrounded myself with my stuffed animals, creating a protective wall. None of this worked.
Many times I would see monsters and ghosts chasing me. They weren’t shadowy images, but well defined with a realness that was so acute that I often awoke with sensations on my body where I had been touched by these menacing beings. I tried to tell my mother that something was terribly wrong, but she thought I was just a little girl with a wild imagination. She’d often say, “Michele, those are just dreams. They aren’t real. You have nothing to worry about.” For me, those dreams were as real as the wind howling outside my window or the footsteps of my father as he passed by my bedroom on the way to the bathroom.
As I grew older, I realized that no one would believe me and I feared that I might be losing my mind. I would often see shadowy images in my room or glowing white light forms around my bed. I had no idea that these were spirits — some were my guardian spirits and others were not. I felt so alone, because I couldn’t talk about my experiences with my mother or brother. Deep down I knew they wouldn’t be able to help, me because they didn’t believe in ghosts or spirits.
Ilater discovered that my mother had psychic abilities too. She kept her abilities hidden from all of us, but one day she shared with me that she had seen a ghost when she was a young girl living with my Aunt Fay. It was in the middle of the day and they lived on the top floor of an apartment building in New York City. There were no other buildings across from them that were the same height, so it wasn’t possible for there to be a reflection. My mother and aunt saw this translucent man walk through their living room. In that moment they both looked at each other and screamed.
My mother grew up in the 50’s, which was a pretty conservative time. She knew very well that to share stories of ghosts would not be received well by her peers or other family members, so she also kept her secret. This is a common trait that I have discovered in working with many of my psychic clients. They have learned to live with their abilities in secret, for fear that they will be labeled crazy. Mainstream society is quick to judge anyone who is not considered ‘normal’. In many ways, those of us who are psychics or empaths are feared. This is very much like the X-Men movies about children with extraordinary powers who have to live separate from society, or they will be persecuted, incarcerated in mental institutions or even killed.
So what is crazy? Why have so many people been labeled as crazy when in fact they are often gifted with psychic abilities? These are the questions that I will explore in my blog to book series, opening the pandoras box that many fear to open. Now in the year 2020 our world is in crisis and all of our illusions of safety have crumbled away, leaving us raw. We must be willing to access our super powers and find new ways to create a better world. There is no more room for self judgment or judgment of others for being different.