Born of Spirit, Bound by Love: Walking Between Worlds

I’ve been a medium and a channel since I was a child. I didn’t know these terms at such a young age of course, but I did know that these experiences weren't shared by anyone around me, nor did I feel safe enough to speak them aloud. My story doesn’t begin with a spiritual awakening as an adult. It began before I ever took my first breath.

My father was a gifted psychic. My mother discovered she was pregnant with me just three days before he died suddenly from a massive heart attack. I would be the last gift he gave to the world. When I was born, I was tangled in my umbilical cord—gray, limp, and unbreathing. The doctor held me upside down and smacked the soles of my feet, which caused me to gasp. As I did, my skin changed from lifeless gray to soft pink and finally to a flushed, healthy red. My mother said she didn’t breathe until she heard my first cry. This a story I’ve heard countless times, and each telling reminds me: I was born between realms. My first breath was drawn on the edge of the veil.

As a child, I played with imaginary friends and whispered secrets to them. I saw and heard things no one else could. I knew truths no one had spoken aloud—like the fact that my father had passed before I was born. I knew it, just as I knew my own name. This understanding prompted me to ask questions about him causing my mother to give answers to me as a very young child, long before she was prepared to answer them.  

His presence has been a quiet, guiding energy in the background of my life. I’ve often wondered—was this gift meant to connect others to their beloved dead, or was it given so I could find a way to reach my own?

Mediumship: Bridging the Seen and the Unseen

When people hear the word "medium," they often picture crystal balls or theatrical séances. But mediumship, as I know it, is quieter. It is a sacred stillness, a listening beyond sound, a feeling that extends beyond the threshold of skin, and a knowing, a present awareness that exists for me through focused intention.

A medium is someone who can hold energetic space between the physical and spiritual worlds—conveying messages from those who have passed to bring healing, clarity, and peace to the living. It’s not about theatrics. It’s about presence. It's about holding space for love to flow where words can’t.

Mediumship is an act of devotion. It is service, not spectacle. Mediums listen with their whole being—to subtle energies, to unspoken feelings, to the echoes left behind. Some of us see images. Some hear words. Others feel emotions or simply know without knowing how. These gifts often unfold through the senses known as the clairs—clairvoyance, clairaudience, clairsentience, and claircognizance.

Every medium’s gift is unique. Sometimes it can present cinematically, like images on a screen. Sometimes the audio quality is clear and defined, and others, it’s like a bad phone connection, or a skipped record. No two mediums are the same, nor do their gifts present the same in each spirit connection. 

A Bridge Between Worlds

Mediums are the bridge. We speak not only with spirit guides and ancestors but can also connect with the lingering energy of moments passed. We can serve as messengers when words have gone unsaid. These conversations aren’t about proving something—they're about healing, remembering, and continuing love’s dialogue beyond this world.

To connect with the spirit world is to affirm that death is not the end. It is a doorway. And love—the kind that is real and soul-rooted—passes through that doorway unencumbered.

The Wounds We Carry, the Truth We Claim

Despite the tenderness of this work, there is stigma and misunderstanding.

I was raised in a Christian home where spiritual gifts like mine were seen as wicked. Words like “witchcraft” and “necromancy” were preached about with scorn. The teachings of my upbringing proclaimed that those practicing these acts were considered abominations, and the consequences of practicing them came with the heavy threat of death, followed by eternal condemnation.  I was taught that pursuing the use of these gifts would condemn me. But I couldn’t reconcile that. Why would a loving Creator endow me with such deep knowing, and the gift to be approached by spirits—only to demand I ignore the gifts I'd been given? Why would a creator curse a child in this way?

So I pushed it down. I did everything I could to silence the messages. I tried to forget how to access them. For years I carried the burden of a gift I didn’t feel safe to claim. I feared judgment, and rejection—not from strangers, but from the people I loved the most. While holding firm to their beliefs, my family understood that I was different, and did see my gifts as special, but they didn't know how to guide me to use them. While they tried to be understanding, in many ways their attempts to keep me safe from the harsh judgement of their religious community only served to support my self-isolation.

Even outside of religion, mediumship is met with suspicion. Modern history remembers the charlatans, not the quiet healers. And while some have misused this work for ego, monetary gain, and exploitation, many of us walk this path with reverence and integrity. Still, the shadow of skepticism lingers.

It’s lonely sometimes—to hold a truth the world doesn’t always welcome. There were many times I stayed silent—not because I didn’t trust my gift, but because I didn’t trust how others would receive it.

The Heart of the Work

For me, mediumship is an act of love. It is communion. It is compassion reaching across dimensions. I believe the heart is the bridge—and love is what travels it. Love transcends time and form. It holds us across lifetimes. That love has always called to me. And now, finally, I am brave enough to answer.

To be a medium is to witness the sacred. To be still enough to hear what the world drowns out. To hold grief in one hand and grace in the other. It is not performance. It is reverence.

It’s whispering to the grief stricken and heart weary, “You are not alone.” It’s remembering for others what they’ve forgotten: that we are eternal, deeply connected, and profoundly loved.

This is my truth. I will walk this path, not with shame, but with open hands and a heart on fire. I am born of spirit, bound by love—and I will walk between worlds for as long as I am called to.

To serve, to speak, to hold light where it’s needed.

This is who I am. After all this time, I can accept this truth. If I could not answer, I would not have been called.