About

'Mum, what religion are we?'

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'We don't have a religion, but we believe that when we die, our soul continues. It's our physical body that dies, not the soul. So we are Spiritualists.'

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Smiling, my mum held my hand. 'When we die, we go home—to the spirit world. We see all the people we loved in this life. We are eternal.'

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Then she added, 'Many people don't believe this, and people can get scared or offended. So if anyone asks what religion you are, say Church of England.'

It felt right, and I felt relieved. We never die.

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At that moment, I was liberated and caged all at the same time.

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Believing in eternal life put me in the minority. I didn't want to be different, so it was better to hide and deny than to express my joy at understanding that we will see those we love again.

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It made me feel uneasy because I already felt odd. I had visions regularly. I could feel and sense things around me. I questioned if this made me weird, because yes, it was cool to read people's thoughts intuitively, to finish their sentences word for word before the words left their mouths. But it was the sideways glances and the laughter behind my back that stopped me from showing up as me.

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My teens were painful, awkward, and overwhelming. I put my head under the covers when the visions came. I tried hard to fit in and be accepted, in denial of who I was and what I believed in.

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The distorted and bigoted view of psychics and mediumship continued throughout my life, pushing me further from my truth and into a spiral of hating myself for being sensitive and empathic.

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I absorbed these energies without knowing how to protect myself. I became a people pleaser, easy pickings for the unhealed and needy. I concluded that I was weird and that I didn't fit in.

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I shut off the spirit world. It wasn't cool. It freaked people out. And the people it didn't freak out would make me feel uncomfortable.

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And there it was, staring right back at me: fear.

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Fear of the unknown. Fear of people seeing the real me. Fear of being judged. Fear of my gifts and my ability to heal and empower others.

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Not equipped to face any of those fears in my young adult life, I made no effort to try.

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I went to see many psychic mediums for readings and held onto their every word. But the more I went, the more I saw who I didn't want to be—the Gypsy Rose Lee at the end of the pier, or the scary old crone who came in too close to deliver messages I didn't want to hear.

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So I got on with my life, turning my back on everything I knew I was but did not want to acknowledge.

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But you cannot hide from your destiny.

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As my father took his last breath and the cancer finally brought him back home to spirit, I looked at him so hard, trying to imprint the memory of his face, his skin, his hands, the hands that would never hold me again.

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I supported my mum, pushing away my own grief so I could help her cope, be strong, continue to live this life.

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The visions came back. My senses were on overdrive. I was dreaming repeatedly, waking every night to my father's face, his passing. It became overwhelming.

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One night I woke to a pressure around my body. As I turned, I saw him—my father, standing by my bed. He was young, as I remembered him from my childhood. He was well. And he was not alone.

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I saw many, many spirits filling the room.

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I was not scared. I was calm. I felt peace.

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I was elated. An experience so intense, so personal. With certainty, I knew he was home, and that life was eternal.

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I got married five months later, knowing he was with me, as he promised.

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Life became cruel as cancer returned and took my mother two years later, an unwelcome guest but the most significant catalyst for change.

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It took me four years of running away from myself, filling my life with whatever I could find to bring distraction. But I was not unfulfilled. I was unhealed and angry.

The family as I had known it crumbled. My siblings and I went our separate ways.

 

The realization that it was my mum who was the anchor, who pulled us all together, shattered more than my confidence.

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When I had grown so uncomfortable in my own skin, confused about life and knee-deep in grief, I wanted answers. I wanted proof. I needed stability built on self-awareness and self-respect.

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I went in pursuit of clarity, to understand myself and to just be.

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It took me 13 years, and I am still pursuing a pathway of self-healing and self-compassion. The more I understand, the more I want to share this divine knowledge, unashamed, with as many people as I can.

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I would never be a 'cross my palm with silver' type of gal, a stereotypical fortune teller. I never believed for a moment that my gifts were unique. Some maybe, but intuitive and psychic gifts are available to all. Practical magic.

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Learning as much as I could, I grew strong enough in my truth to be my authentic self, proud to be empathic and sensitive. There is power in emotional intelligence.

Embodying practical magic for the present time by weaving in the ancient traditions and wisdom of our ancestors, I have learned directly from my source—my spirit guides by my side, intuitively led to achieve meaningful connection and balance within my life.

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To know and share the voice of spirit, to empower and heal and to love—this is who I am. The reward is an awareness of self that underpins everything that is joy in this life.

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We all get to navigate this life's pathway, the destination unclear or hidden from view. Harnessing the tools and techniques to embrace the journey entirely is incredibly special.

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'Mum, what religion are we?'

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I am a Spiritualist. A conduit of love, communication, and connection. An ambassador for truth and healing, unashamed of who I am and what I represent.

I went from caged to liberated, a pathway to empowerment through self-acceptance, truth, and love. Living a fully abundant life without hiding in the shadows.

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I can help you do the same.

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Dawn

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