Coming Out of the Spiritual Closet;be Brave and do it scared anyway.

“By becoming self-aware, you gain ownership of reality; in becoming real, you become the master of both inner and outer life.”
Deepak Chopra

Coming out of the spiritual closet, after 18 years as a cosmetologist in  the world of beauty and superficiality, was harder than a face off with my alcoholic father. I felt like I was back in seventh grade, trying to figure out which identity to wear to be in the cool crowd. As a sensible 31-year-old, authenticity was the game I had to play made up by society’s preconceived ideas of what a medium psychic should look like.

So then I started soul searching ...

Which box do I belong to when I don’t fit in any? Could it be the Lululemon-wearing yogis? The peace-loving, no war sects? Or the crystal-embossed psychics? I got one for you: how about none. When I was in my beginning stages of entertaining my uncanny gifts, in 2013, I fought an inward battle that questioned my sanity.

My first supernatural experience was at eight years old. In the summers, my siblings and I would spend it over my father’s family home in the rural parts of the Philippines. So rural that electricity was only allowed until 8pm and there was only one tv for the entire town to watch. Its residency was in the only neighborhood restaurant. We were far removed from the city that we grew up in with my mother’s side of the family.

It must’ve been around 2am or so……Ten sleeping human logs oblivious to the floating woman above them as they slumber.

My father’s house was a beach hut common in beachside towns. I had woken up to use the bathroom to pee. However, when I opened my eyes, I saw a lady, clear as day, watching and examining my family who were all sleeping lined up next to each on the floor. Ten sleeping human logs oblivious to the floating woman above them as they slumber. My 3 year old brother Rex was soundly sleeping until the lady bends over him to pick him up.

I shut my eyes and rapidly recited the father’s prayer in my head. But his scream didn’t allow me to mutely move pass “Our father, who is heaven.” When all of sudden, Rex stopped screaming and went right back to sleep. I peeked my eyes open, and the lady swooshed right into my face. My screams must’ve been silent and I blacked out. I don’t remember how I went back to sleep but the next morning, I made my father bring me back into the city and never come back.

My screams must’ve been silent and I blacked out.

Since then, the experience weren’t frequent, but happened throughout my life. Every time it did happen, the experiences would escalate. At first, I was only able to see them. Then they were able to see me. Then they tried to talk to me but my fear of them wouldn't allow me to begin comprehending their communication.

One time, with my boyfriend, a spirit shook my closet door violently to be let out. My boyfriend opened the door and we both watched as footprints manifested on the carpeted floor towards my bedroom door. The doorknob shook once again begging to be opened. This time, I opened it. I jumped back into the bed and my boyfriend and I just listened as we heard cupboards opening and closing as well as dishes and silverware clanging; as if he was cleaning and organizing the kitchen.

we both watched as footprints manifested on the carpeted floor towards my bedroom door.

That was the experience that finally made me question my sanity.

“Fuck! Do I need to be institutionalized?”

However my rational self answered back confidently. “No. you’re not the first Medium Psychic. Get over yourself.”

I know how this all sounds.

Is this bitch crazy?

Am I? I have to be, right? Why would I jeopardize a rational, financially stable, and successful business?

I can’t keep going like this I thought to myself. I just can’t keep pretending and running away. The decision to find someone that can help me understand this world was non-negotiable. It wasn’t  going away and living in fear wasn’t an option.

I'd be damned if I let anyone—dead or alive—dictate the way I live.

After hours, staring at the insensitive computer screen—mocking me each time I typed positive psychic, mediumship readings, ghost therapy, into google—I found a blog page that recommended “the psychic pathway” by Sonia Choquette.

I hit the jackpot!

I hit the jackpot! Sonia based her work on angels. I didn’t even know that was possible and this discovery made the little Catholic girl in me dance. My journey continued on the angelic path while also gathering spirit guides, ascended masters, archetypes, astrology, light workers, and spiritual mentors along the way.

My daily exercise of doggy paddles in the pool of spirit eventually became a bona fide breast stroke and I swam confidently into the ocean of spirit. Bit by bit, fear reduced to wonder—this ability is a gift and not a curse. Isn't it wonderful that I am able to help communicate messages from the other side to their love ones? To alleviate the grief that has grasped tightly on someone’s heart from their love one passing?

the Vatican has its own department of mediums—look it up.

I wasn’t alone, and there are communities willing to show me the light of this work and not abuse it. I finally felt like I was home. That I belonged, rather than being told it was wrong from my religious upbringing—the Vatican has its own department of mediums,look it up.

Fear crept up from time to time…

Fear crept up from time to time, trying to choke out my newfound spiritual freedom, but Salon Crimson, my business in New Jersey, continued to flourish. I began introducing and incorporating my spiritual offerings to my existing clients and the support I received astounded me. The moment I became honest, genuine, and authentic as a soul being—not just as a hairdresser, entrepreneur, friend, or professional—but as an upgraded version of myself was when I truly felt the happiest in my life.

The moment I became honest, genuine, and authentic as a soul being

My journey of coming out was one of the darkest time of my life; but I am the most grateful and loving person because of it. You cannot appreciate the light without first going through the dark. Now, I look forward to the challenges in life. I do not expect nor ask for it, but I certainly am no longer fearful of change. The transformation towards wisdom in all things is the gift in the end. I hope that I’ve empowered and encouraged you to somehow come out of the closet—Whatever closet that may be and enjoy the journey to freedom.

I hope that I’ve empowered and encouraged you to somehow come out of the closet—Whatever closet that may be and enjoy the journey to freedom.