The author as a young child, already experiencing her special abilities.My grandmother kept a pen and piece of paper at the kitchen table. Every morning, I’d come downstairs before school to sit across from her, and she’d write down what I’d seen in my dreams.She’d ask questions, then tell me what the colours, symbols and people I dreamed of might mean. She took it seriously.I genuinely can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t see things and know things. I always knew when the phone was about to ring. I knew when adults were lying. And sometimes I’d meet someone for the first time and just … know things about them that I had no way of knowing.In kindergarten, I was watching other kids play double dutch when I felt the energy of an old man standing next to me that the other kids couldn’t see. I didn’t know who he was, but I felt him there.In high school, my gifts became harder to ignore. Senior year, one of my classmates got pulled out of class, and the second she left the room I knew something terrible – violent – had happened. Someone close to her was gone. I couldn’t explain it. The next day we found out her boyfriend had taken his life.That’s how it’s always been with me and death. I look at people and I can feel when they’re sick, feel when someone’s not going to be here much longer. No one taught me that. It just came with me.Then there’s the crying. When the energy is off, when I’m around people I shouldn’t be around, I just start crying. But it isn’t sadness – it’s a signal. Something trying to get my attention.Do I always listen? No. Especially with men, with friendships. I’ll feel my body trying to tell me something’s off, and I’ll keep going anyway. Then I’ll get my heart broken or get blindsided by some betrayal I should’ve seen coming. Because I did see it coming. I just didn’t want to. We all have the capability to predict our own future. We just ignore the signs. The possibilities, the outcomes – we feel them in our bodies. We just don’t want to listen. I’m connected to collective energy, too. For two weeks before George Floyd’s death at the hands of police, I cried every single day without knowing why. Something was off in the energy, but I couldn’t name it. I still can’t fully explain it now.That’s how intrusive these gifts can be. They stop you in your tracks. There was a stretch in high school where it got to be too much. Spirits waking me up. Premonitions I didn’t want. I wasn’t sleeping.I didn’t pray for my gifts to disappear, but I did ask for them to quiet down. That didn’t work, so I started taking Benadryl – the little pink pills – just to knock myself out so I wouldn’t dream.It helped me sleep, helped me survive. By college, I’d moved on to Tylenol PM, taking 2 1/2 pills a night just to get some rest. These days I use magnesium and other natural supplements that are better for my body. But it wasn’t just the spiritual stuff that made me different. I felt old, always. I was never just a kid being a kid. I felt as though I was connected to something bigger that I had a hard time explaining.When my ancestors were brought to America, they didn’t come empty-handed. They had rituals, spiritual practices and an inner knowing. On plantations, they’d sneak off to hush harbours – hidden spots in the woods where they could pray and sing and be themselves. But that got beat out of them. They were handed a Bible to keep them in line.After emancipation, the Black church became the centre of everything. Community, leadership and the one space where we could gather freely. That was real. That mattered. But there were rules. Unspoken respectability politics. You had to look right and act right. Anything too African or too mystical got pushed out. Prophets were praised in the Black community. My gifts on the other hand, wereconsidered suspect by that same community. In the Black community, I’ve had women accuse me of being involved in witchcraft, or tell me that astrology is of the devil. “I don’t believe in signs,” they say. “I believe in God.”That’s what we inherited. That’s why so many of us hide. That’s why I hid.Even when the work I do isn’t seen as potentially evil, it still tends to get written off as something only white people do. Astrology, mediumship, tarot – for Black women, that stuff often stays behind closed doors.The author’s debut book, “Embody Your Magic.”For years, I called myself an “intuitive life coach” instead of a psychic or a medium. I was working in corporate sales and marketing, but even at my day job, I couldn’t fully turn it off. Co-workers would take me out to lunch and I’d give them readings right there at the table, and then weeks later they’d come back and tell me everything I said happened. On the side, I’d coach people on performance and accountability, helping them figure out their purpose and life goals. But during those sessions, my psychic and mediumship abilities would tap in. I was giving psychic readings the whole time, but I was too afraid of being judged to say so.But like many people, my life course changed during the pandemic, when my spiritual guides led me to channel every morning.My main guide, whom I call M, has always been with me since I was a child. I believe he’s part of my ancestral lineage – someone who passed away many years before I was born. My mum and grandmother used to tell stories about me having conversations with someone no one else could see. Many people would call those imaginary friends, but in my experience, children’s imaginary friends are usually their spiritual guides.So when M told me to channel live on Instagram every morning, I did it. iPhone propped up on a stand, I’d go live and start talking. The first time I did it I was terrified – and I thought people would think I’d lost my mind.Some of the first messages that came through: You are light. You are love. Nothing and no one can take that away from you. When the world gets cold, warm your heart and breathe. You don’t have to fight for what has always been yours.And my followers continued to show up at 9am, every day for 75 days straight, writing down the messages, sharing them and most importantly, telling me they were healing as a result. That changed something in me. The spirit world was using me, and people were actually receiving it.I was on a date the first time I called myself a psychic medium to someone outside my immediate world. He was a finance guy and very corporate. He asked what I did, and I just said it.He looked confused. “That’s all you do?”“Yes,” I firmly replied.“You must be good at it,” he stated assuredly. “Yeah. I am,” I beamed with pride.The author hosting a retreat in Rio, Brazil.Finding peers and mentors who look like me in this field – it’s not as hard as it used to be. Black women are breaking free from restrictive religion in droves right now. They’re deconstructing slowly, and when they find me, I always hear the same thing – that I’m a safe space, that I make it palatable, that there’s no shame with me.White women seek me out, too, and I think it’s because I keep it real. I don’t sugarcoat things. I tell it from my perspective as a Black woman, and I’m not gonna let anybody wallow. I’m gonna tell you to get off your ass, feel the feelings and do the work.I’ve built my business mostly through word of mouth. Clients find me from near and far, and it always starts the same way – someone gave me your name and told me I had to talk to you.These days, when people ask what I do, I tell them straight up. I’m a psychic medium, astrologer, spiritual guide and teacher. I’ve helped women change careers, helped people play the cards they got dealt, come back to themselves and start living their most magical motherfucking lives. This work brought me back to myself, too.I had to be myself so I could free myself. What felt like a burden turned out to be my greatest gift. And I don’t have to hide anymore.Aycee Brown is a psychic medium, astrologer, spiritual guide and teacher. Her book Embody Your Magic comes out Feb. 17, 2026, from HarperOne. She hosts the podcast Is My Aura on Straight? and has been doing this work for over 15 years.Do you have a compelling personal story you’d like to see published on HuffPost? Find out what we’re looking for here and send us a pitch at pitch@huffpost.com.Related…A Stranger Claimed My Grandpa Was Haunting Her House. The Details Were Too Uncanny To Ignore.As A Scientist, I Didn’t Believe In Psychic Powers. Then I Experienced Something That Changed My Life.I Asked A Psychologist, Dream Interpreter And Psychic What It Means If You Dream About Exams As An Adult HuffPost UK – Athena2 – All Entries (Public) Read More