Read This If You’re Thinking About Getting A Psychic Reading

Whenever I’ve gone through a tough or uncertain time, I’ve often wondered if a psychic reading could give me any valuable insight into my life. In times of uncertainty, I’d wish I had some sort of guaranteed cheat sheet for my choices or could gain some reassurance about my life path. I’d ask myself, “Could it really be that simple that there’s a person out there that holds the key to my future?”

The answer, I suppose, depends on who you’re talking to. Some people are completely closed off to the idea of clairvoyants, whether it’s for religious reasons or that they simply refuse to accept that spending $5.99 a minute on the phone with a stranger in California could change their lives.

For me, while I definitely wasn’t going the psychic hotline route, I decided after my divorce that I needed some sort of relief about my future. In my desperation and extreme curiosity, I thought it was time to sit for a reading.

After my first tarot and psychic reading, I left unimpressed and confused. When I got home, I destroyed the cassette tape of our recorded session. I was angry. I wasted $100 on hearing a bunch of bullshit, with only the name “Bobby” given to me as future relevance in my life. Nothing she said was accurate or meaningful to me.

Others who had gotten readings from her told me to be patient and that even though I couldn’t make sense out of anything she said, things were likely to unfold over time. I didn’t believe it.

Six years later, when I started dating a man named Bobby, the first serious relationship I had in years, I started to question if I had dismissed my reading too quickly. Although things didn’t work out with him, a blessing pertinent to growth at a specific time in my life, I decided that maybe there was some validity to this psychic thing.

While I wasn’t interested in sitting for a reading with her again, I began my research for someone new. I chose a medium with stellar reviews, a large following, and a reputation for delivering bone-chillingly accurate readings to several people that I know.

When I walked into L’s office, she knew nothing about me. I hadn’t given her a last name to book the appointment and had not even spelled my first name correctly for her. My social media was on lockdown just in case and I was wearing a mask, a pandemic-given blessing in disguise, as I was determined to stay poker-faced during the entire reading. I wasn’t going to give anything away—not my emotions, my expressions, not even my age.

Upon walking in, she mentioned that my grandmother was in the room. She explained that she had died many years ago but was by my side telling me that everything will all work out. She said that she was on the other side with her sisters Mary and Rose. This was the first time of many during my reading that she gave me correct names.

L told me that she saw my grandmother with birds and that she had sent messages through them. I could not decipher this at the moment. But when I told my cousins and aunt about this after my reading, they reminded me of my grandmother’s pet bird that she adored when I was too young to recall. They also reminded me about the black crow that used to “watch over” us in her pool after her death. This was the same bird that also used to visit my grandfather on the front stoop daily after her passing. He used to say that it was her nagging him.

She then named my grandfather by name, Frank, and asked me if there were two Franks because they were together in the afterlife. This again was spot on. He and his cousin of the same name, who he was very close to, had died only years apart. L referred to him as “Poppa”, which is what my son and the other great-grandchildren called him. She assured me that he was watching over me as well.

L talked about my sister’s job, her husband Joseph by name, and their family house on the Cape that I visited often. Once again she was precise and correct with it all. But for some reason, I wasn’t moved until she stopped her train of thought and asked me who was in New York.

The person in New York was not someone I spoke about or to anymore. She knew him by name and questioned why she had seen us fishing and in a home on a water bank. I immediately got chills thinking of one of the last times I saw him that we spent at his lake home. Where, yes, we went fishing. There was no way she could have known this or that the last picture I have of him is of him fishing in a canoe. I kept this picture sacred and private, as none of my friends or family approved of our situationship.

She described his tattoo and the relevance to the number 44, his lacrosse number, and my grandmother’s lucky number representing the day she died, 4/4 at 4:44 a.m. L told me there was so much more to the number 44 than I had thought. It was a sign of eternity—four plus four equals eight, which, turned on its side, is the eternity symbol.

With this description of eternity came an explanation that New York was my twin flame as she described one of our past lives together. L explained my twin flame as being karmic, someone who lives out many lives with me, regardless if they stay or maintain a loving relationship with me. In each life, we reunite in different circumstances.

In this lifetime, he was not meant to stay. She knew that he had brought me heartache, anger, and his “rude” presence, all of which she described as a result of my untimely death, leaving him and our young daughter in a past life at the turn of the 16th century. While this did make me giggle a little, I couldn’t deny that she had been right about everything else about him.

She told me that regardless of how our relationship (in this case lack thereof) played out in this life, what we shared was something real, even if he nor anyone around us believed it.

As I sat crying, I refused to believe that life was so cruel that I would be reunited with my twin flame but couldn’t be with him. She told me that it was important that I acknowledge my feelings and be happy for what we had in this lifetime, even if it was only an intense physical connection. L said that I needed to know this in order to release any leftover feelings I may have had about what happened between us and be truly open to the new connections coming to me.

It had been so long, I thought I had done that already.

Unable to process anything else she said after dropping this bomb on me, I vaguely heard a few other things. My youngest sister Nicole would need me (yes, that’s actually her name). I would meet my “person” this Spring. I would live in a new home with him, bearing my grandmother’s favorite white flower out front, a message from her that everything was going to turn out just fine for me. And lastly, James/Jim is coming.

And while Jim came just two months later and rocked my world with that “big personality” just as she described, he was not the one.

Looking back, I can’t help but wonder, did this gifted woman see my future and know all of my past or did she have a secret talent of finding out anything about anyone? I often reread the notes I took that day in disbelief. Names scribbled on the paper of relevant people in my life, descriptions of places only I had seen, and connections and feelings that no one knew I had except for me.

For now, I eagerly await the next few weeks and spring’s arrival so I can make my final decision on how I feel about psychics.

In the meantime, if you’re curious about what a psychic reading may do for you, and you’ve stumbled upon this article, take it as a sign. It might be time to get one. If you find a reputable psychic and play—or should I say “pull”—your cards right, you won’t be disappointed.