The Day I Realised I Was A Medium And Had Absolutely No Idea What To Do With That

I want to tell you the story of how this all started. Not the polished version. Not the version that makes it sound like a beautiful, spiritual unfolding. The real version. The terrifying, disorienting, completely bewildering version where I genuinely thought I was losing my mind.

Because that is how it actually was.

My Nan passed away on the 6th of June 2022. And I need you to understand something about my Nan and me before I go any further. She was everything. Not in a vague, sentimental way — in a concrete, she is the reason I am who I am kind of way. I basically grew up between two houses. Mine and hers. I had a bedroom at her house and a bedroom at my mum’s and I moved between the two like it was the most natural thing in the world. She was my constant.

She also, for the record, thought I was completely crazy for believing in ghosts. She told me so. Often. She knows different now. It was her passing that changed everything.

The Days After

The first few days after she went were the strangest of my life. Not just because she was gone — but because in the most bizarre, inexplicable way, she was not. I felt like I was her. Or she was inside me. I kept doing things she would do, saying things she would say, using her exact turns of phrase. I kept telling my mum, I feel like I am Nan. And Mum would look at me and I could see it in her face — she could see it too. That is exactly what she would have said.

Beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.

And then things started happening. Things I could not explain. A shift in the air in a room. A sense of presence that was too specific and too deliberate to ignore. Thoughts that dropped into my mind that did not feel like they were mine. I want to be really honest about how I felt at the time — I was scared. Genuinely scared. Not in a dramatic way. In a quiet, cold, what is actually happening to me way. 💜

The pressure kept building. By February 2023, I was waking up after nights I could barely remember, knowing something massive had shifted but unable to articulate what. I was exhausted and confused and functioning on autopilot. And one morning I sat on the edge of my bed with my phone in my hand, absolutely convinced that I needed to call my GP. I genuinely thought I had broken my brain. That grief and other things had finally tipped me over into something I could not come back from.

I was ready to make that call.

And then my thumbs started typing into Google instead.

The Article

I was not looking for mediumship. I was looking for any logical, medical explanation that could account for everything I had been experiencing. I just wanted someone to tell me there was a name for it. A diagnosis. Something that would make sense.

The moment I hit enter, I did not even have to scroll.

One article appeared right at the top of the screen. I clicked on it. And when the page loaded, the words hit me like a physical shock wave.

It was not about depression or grief responses or anything medical at all. It was about the awakening of spiritual mediumship. It described, in specific detail, the exact physical and emotional symptoms that occur when psychic senses are being activated. Every single bullet point described my life. The sensory overload. The emotions that did not feel like mine. The internal voices at the edge of hearing. The overwhelming sense of being watched. The pressure, the confusion, the exhaustion of something you do not have a name for yet.

I sat there on my bed asking out loud into the empty room — is this really true? Surely not. Not me.

And the second the words left my mouth, a massive image flashed in my mind. A crowd of people with their arms stretched out, practically screaming at me in unison — yes. Now come on. ✨

The Shock

I need to explain how I felt in that moment. Because it was not the moment you might expect if you imagine someone discovering they have a gift they have always wanted.

Here is the thing. Since I was about fourteen years old, I had secretly wanted to be a medium. I used to sneak downstairs to watch Derek Acorah on Most Haunted when the house was quiet, sitting in the dark thinking how incredible it would be to do that for someone. I never told a soul. Because who was I to want something like that? Amazing things did not happen to people like me. I was just a normal girl who had made wrong choices and told lies and was not exactly living a story that pointed toward anything extraordinary. I filed the dream away alongside everything else I had ever wanted and stopped expecting it to happen.

So you would think that discovering it was real would feel like the best news in the world.

It did not feel like that. Not at first. Not even close.

It felt like a pure Susan Boyle on Britain’s Got Talent jaw-dropping shock. I sat there in complete disbelief, reading everything I could find, asking over and over — surely not me. People like me do not get given things like this. And underneath the shock was something even harder — the loneliness of knowing something that nobody around you can see. My mum was my rock. She was the one person I could call and say you are not going to believe what just happened and know she would actually listen. Beyond her, I felt completely alone with it. 💜

I went back to save the article. I checked my browser history, my bookmarks, the search terms I had typed.

The link was gone. The search history was gone. Everything had vanished as completely as if it had never existed. I have tried to find it again many times. I never have.

What I Did With That

The honest answer is — I did not know what to do with it. I really did not. I spent weeks just processing. Reading everything I could find. Looking back through my life with new eyes, recognising things I had explained away for years. The name I kept hearing called that was never anyone in the house. The things I knew that I had no logical reason to know. The small hand pressed flat on my back at my Nan’s when I was trying to sleep. The shadow figures at my mum’s that I had learned, as a child, to quietly negotiate with under my duvet.

It had always been there. Quiet, unnamed, and waiting.

And I had absolutely no manual for any of it.

Nobody gave me one. This was not in the books. Which, if you have read my memoir, you will understand is not just a metaphor.

What I did, eventually, was decide to take it seriously. I found a development circle. I went — twice, as it turned out, before Turkey happened and everything accelerated faster than I could have predicted. But that is a different story.

The point of this post is not the journey. The journey is in the book.

The point is this: the day I realised I was a medium was not a beautiful moment. It was not a gentle spiritual unfolding. It was bewildering and isolating and terrifying and so far from what I ever expected for my life that I still, sometimes, look back at it and think — how did that happen to someone like me?

And the only answer I have ever found is this. Spirit does not wait for you to feel ready. Spirit does not care whether you think you are the right person for this. Spirit finds who it needs and opens the door and says — yes. Now come on.

And you figure out the rest as you go. 💜