Even still, I was clearly seeing and sensing things that other people weren’t. When I was out with my friends at the mall or the bowling alley, I’d ask if they saw a man walk by or heard someone call their name, because I secretly had, and they’d go, “Uh, no. What are you talking about?” Or sometimes I’d receive a message, which I’d assume was just my own random thought and not realize that it had any meaning, or that I’d even thought of anything, until it was validated later. For example, if I was on my way to the fair, I might hear a voice tell me, “Don’t eat the cotton candy.” I’d ignore it, and then a friend would tell me the cotton candy made her sick. But even then, I just assumed that I got better hunches about people and situations than maybe some friends or strangers did.
Again, I believed that I was my safe place. So seeing, hearing, and sensing something around me all the time became my normal. Doctors have always said that our bodies are built to adapt; if a feeling or experience goes on for long enough, the brain learns to disregard it, work around it, or just treat it as normal. I know now that seeing and sensing Spirit isn’t most people’s typical experience, but it was routine for me, and I didn’t have too many people disputing it. As a child, my family and friends just laughed when I’d occasionally say strange things, but never pursued the subject much further. (Mom recently joked that my abilities give a whole new meaning to when I used to say there was a monster, imaginary friend, or ghost in my room!) And for as many times as friends didn’t agree with what I’d heard or seen, I did have family who had similar experiences because they’re also sensitive. In fact, my cousin Johnny Boy used to jokingly call me and my cousin Lisa “freaks,” and nicknamed us “Para” and “Noid,” when we told him we’d see or feel things. We also used to go shopping separately and come home with the same outfits! But at the time, all Lisa and I knew was that we had unusual, shared experiences that made encounters with what we now know is Spirit just part of our lives. As for my smart-aleck cousin Johnny, he was living in my grandmother’s house ten years later and saw her standing in the hall when he was coming out of the shower. Who’s laughing now?
When my peers became mouthy teenagers, things began to change. Between the ages of about twelve and fourteen, I began to feel less comfortable with what was happening around me, mostly because of how people reacted to my observations. My family was still blasé about stuff I said, but when I’d casually ask if a friend saw or felt something, they’d be like, “No, that’s weird, there’s nobody there. Nobody hears or sees things the way you do!” What once seemed normal now wasn’t, so I decided to block my experiences out altogether. I didn’t say a special prayer to make Spirit stop or anything; I just didn’t acknowledge Spirit’s attempts to communicate with me. Keep in mind, this was before every TV channel had a ghost-hunting show and John Edward was a household name. People didn’t talk about this stuff. Nobody, including me, could’ve guessed what was really going on. It was never part of a comfortable, mainstream conversation.
By the time I was sixteen years old, I was lucky that I hadn’t lost a lot of loved ones, but this also means that I didn’t have recognizable Spirit visiting me. When Nanny, my father’s mom, died, I was devastated. We were very close, and everyone missed her a lot. After she passed, my dad’s older sister, whom we call Auntie, had a psychic come to Nanny’s house. I didn’t know why at the time, but I now think it was to get in touch with her. I didn’t want to go, and I felt a little afraid—mostly because I didn’t know what a psychic really was or did. But I knew I’d feel safe at Nanny’s house, so I went anyway. And for the first time in a long time I didn’t block Spirit.
I felt Nanny’s energy and soul near the window, and my family kept asking me why I was by the drapes when everyone else was at the kitchen table. They also asked me whom I was talking to, though I don’t remember what I was saying. (It’s similar to how I can’t recall most of what Spirit says after I channel for others.) After a minute of this, my family had to interrupt me in their usual, teasing way. They kept it lighthearted and didn’t freak out.
“Theresa, who are you talking to?”