I am often asked how long I have been psychic. The first thing I have to explain is that I don't call myself a psychic and I rarely use the term. I consider myself a very spiritual person with intuitive abilities. I have been this way all of my life. I suppose that in this phase of my life, I find myself finally free to embrace my spirituality, and therefore poised to sharpen my intuitive skills. I have had serious opposition to my developing my gift and therefore, I have often doubted my experiences. In any case, I feel that my road was meant for me to travel.
I was born in New York to an American father and a Dominican mother. My parents tried to raise me with their Christian sensibilities, and anything out of their realm was considered harmful. On the other hand, my grandmother, who I visited frequently in the Dominican Republic, and who later finished raising me due to my parents separation, was a respected intuitive, and a very spiritual person. I remember as a child spending hours looking at my grandmother's altar. Instead of feeling that it was evil, as my mother insisted, I always felt warm at the sight of it. My grandmother's altar was comprised of glowing candles, images of saints, and of Christ. My mother believed that images should not be worshiped. I don't believe that these images were ever worshiped. They stood as reminders, and inspiration. They were respected, and revered as symbols of love, protection, and hope. Oddly enough, this was considered wrong by my mother, who believed that my grandmother worshiped the images and not God. So began the struggle that delayed my spiritual development.
As a child I often spoke to myself, or so everyone thought. I would have full conversations, hear answers to questions, and even jokes. I never felt alone. I always knew I wasn't. But I kept this knowledge to myself, in an effort to not freak out my "cult-like" Christian mother. I found that living with my grandmother seemed to sharpen my senses, and open my soul. I would have experiences that could not be explained with conventional wisdom. If I had ever chosen to describe the events or visits to my mother, it would've certainly sent my mother into a tailspin. As a matter of fact, my mother often had nightmares and frightening visions that prompted her to ask me if I had been "bothered." No, never. Never bothered. Never frightened.
My first memory of listening to my intuition was when I was a little girl. Our car had been stolen and my mother was certain that we would never get it back. I remember the police stating that it was probably gone for good. I told my mom not to cry, that we would get the car back. My mother dismissed my sweet forecast as childish naivety. I hadn't told her "I was told" we would get it back. Less than a week later, the car was found parked on the street in one piece. My mother said it was a miracle.
Today, I maintain an altar. I pay respects to my loved ones that have passed on and I serve my Guardian Angels respect, and gratitude for their guidance, and protection. Worship belongs to God. However, I believe that respect and gratitude should be expressed to those that walk with us on a daily basis. I find myself now helping others. I reached this place kicking, and screaming! I delayed my "coming out" as an intuitive, so as not to devastate my mother and her beliefs.
I am easily touched by people's energy, which makes it a difficult to live with sometimes. Like everything in our universe, some people's energies are positive, and some are negative. I have to be conscious of my doses of each. I easily come into contact with guides that surround people. Some energies are beautiful and bright, while some are dark and depressed. Some are chaotic. Our spiritual guides are present to help us, but they reflect us. Often when someone is in some sort of turmoil, their guides are too. Spiritual Guides feel distress due to the fact that sometimes they feel helpless; they feel that they are not being heeded.
Often I meet people, and I start to get messages. They are not always pleasant. I recently met a couple in a very relaxed setting. I picked up that the man really wanted to discuss a specific topic with his wife that she simply did not want to address. He was so distressed, and felt gagged. I brought the specific subject up and the man stared at me in that odd way that I get often. Needless to say, the conversation was started. I had never met either before this date.
I'm here to help in anyway I can. Feel free to email me, and remember if requested your privacy will always be first priority. However, we hope to publish some letters in an effort to help others. I'm here. Where are you?