How I Am: Sensitive Person

This is strange for me to write about because it's not something I usually talk about. I never told my friends because I knew they wouldn't believe me, so it was something I kept to myself for a very long time.

I guess you would call me a Medium, though I don't like that word. I prefer the term "Sensitive Person". I've had strong intuition for a long time, my first experience being when I was seven and knew that my friend's mother would lose the baby before she did (at seven I didn't even know was miscarrying was, I just knew that baby wouldn't be born - it's something that upsets me to this day).

I grew up. All incidents before I was fifteen were all consequential and seemed like coincidences. Until one night, at fifteen, I heard French singing. Now, I don't speak a lick of French and neither does anyone in my family. It was a man singing and it wasn't a song I recognized. So the next morning I asked my mother if she'd been watching TV the night before, to which she replied no. She'd gone to sleep without watching TV or listening to radio. I shrugged it off as a sleepy delusion and went about my day.

Hours later my father came home and said, "Have you heard about the guy who owned the house before us?" I was not born yet when my parents bought the house, so I had no clue what he was talking about. My father went on, "He died in a motorcycle accident yesterday. I just read an article about it."

My mom looked absolutely shocked. I asked her what was wrong. She explained that the previous owner was nicknamed Frenchy by the neighbors because of his heavy French accent. He was also know for singing loudly while gardening. My mom hadn't thought of this when I told her what I heard because she hadn't thought about Frenchy for almost twenty years.

And so, those were my first two experiences. The steadily increased over the next years. I began hearing voices for clearly at night, asking for things, telling me names, sending me dreams. Then I began seeing things - mostly figures that only hovered for a few moments before dispersing.

My mother was deeply concerned and took me to see a very good friend of hers, an experienced psychic medium. I told her about what was happening to me and she just smiled and said that I had a very "open circle", which she explained meant that spirits were flocking to me because I was Sensitive. This was scary, and I told her so. She told me just light a white candle, open a window, and invite everyone around me to leave. I did this and I slept soundly for the first time in weeks.

I was very closed off for a long time, occluding the voices often. The second one started slipping through the cracks, I shut it down quickly. I became very talented with shoving them away, even if it meant major headaches and more than a few pissed-off visitors in my dreams.

It wasn't until my best friend, Tessa, the only person I ever felt compelled to tell, started pushing me to chat with the voices. She was quite stubborn about it, honestly. So I started letting them in a little bit (a very little bit).

I didn't actually use my Sensitivity until I was at a party not too long ago. There was a woman there, let's call her Hope for the story's sake. She was blonde and wearing blue and I felt something very special around her. I turned to Tessa, who had brought me to this party, and asked her who the woman was. Tessa told me it was Hope. I asked Tessa if Hope had lost a parent recently, more specifically her mother (I felt a strong maternal presence, but it was also strange and not like other mothers I had sensed). Tessa asked around and, as it finds out, Hope's father had passed away only weeks ago.

With Tessa's urging (she was always forcing me out of my little circle of comfort, which is exactly what I need), I approached Hope. I was so anxious and nervous, but I simply introduced myself. Hope was an exceptionally kind young woman, so I was very lucky that this was my first approach.

I said, "I hear your father recently passed. I'm very sorry for your loss."

She had such a sad look on her face and she nodded.

I went on. "Well, Hope, I just... Do you believe in spirits? Angels? Ghosts, or whatever?" I know, real smooth. But I swear to you, I was shaking.

Hope blinked and said, "Of course."

"Well, I guess you could say that I...communicate with them. I hear them and see them. And I just wanted to let you know that your father was here with you."

Immediately, Hope began to cry. I let her, just rubbing her shoulder and holding her hand while she did. I was so rigid and uncomfortable - I wasn't used to crying people, especially strangers. Once Hope recovered, she asked tons of questions.

Finally, I said, "You know, it's weird. I thought it'd been your mother at first. His presence felt very maternal."

Hope, looking surprised but pleased, giggled. She said, "My father WAS my mother. My mom wasn't really around, so he was the one to take me to dance class and make dinner and bake."

It made sense. Of course. I smiled and said, "You had a great father."

"I did," she said, glowing with pride but also looking desperately sad. "I really did."

It was then that I realized how special my Sensitivity was. Hope hugged me that night, thanking me so much for letting her know her father was near and watching over her. She said she felt a lot more peaceful.

I helped this woman. And I realized I could help more. Maybe hearing and seeing the dead wasn't as scary as I thought, maybe I could learn more, do my research, do something bigger than just little me.

I came to terms with it. It's just How I Am.

Thank you for reading. I need all the support and advice I can get.