Name some specific experiences where you've used your abilities.For most of my life, I thought I was just good at reading people. I could feel when something was off—when someone was hurting, even if they were laughing. I always knew which friend needed a call, or when to say something—or stay silent. But I figured it was just intuition, or maybe overthinking. I never called it anything else. That changed the night my cousin came to visit. She showed up at my apartment smiling, talking fast, arms full of takeout and stories. I hadn’t seen her in months, and everything seemed normal. But the moment she walked in, I felt this pressure in my chest—tight, hollow, like grief and guilt tangled together. It hit me so hard I had to steady myself on the kitchen counter. I didn’t say anything at first. I didn’t want to ruin the mood. But as we sat down to eat, I got this sudden, overwhelming knowing—that she’d recently lost someone. Not just anyone—someone she couldn’t talk about. Someone who’d hurt her, but who she still loved. The words just came to me. I looked at her and said quietly, “You don’t have to carry it alone. It wasn’t your fault.” She froze. She hadn’t told anyone that her ex—someone she’d cut off a year before—had passed away unexpectedly just a few days earlier. She had been carrying the weight of conflicted grief, guilt, and relief, all bundled together in silence. She broke down in tears. And all I could do was sit there and hold her hand while the energy around us finally settled. After that night, I couldn’t pretend it was just “being perceptive.” That wasn’t a guess. I didn’t see a social cue or read between lines. I felt it—like her emotions had passed through me on their way to the surface. That was the moment it clicked: I’m not just sensitive. I’m connected. What I experience isn’t about observation—it’s about energy. Emotion. Knowing. And I’ve been learning to honor that ever since.

How long have you been aware of your abilities, and how have you developed them?What I Do & What I Offer 🔹 Emotional & Energetic Readings I tune into the emotional energy you’re carrying—sometimes it’s loud and tangled, sometimes it’s quiet and buried. I don’t read minds, but I feel what’s underneath the surface. My goal isn’t to predict your future—it’s to help you better understand your present, so you can move through it with more clarity and confidence. “I don’t tell people what’s coming. I help them understand what’s already here.” 🔹 Empathic Insight Sessions Sometimes the hardest part of life is figuring out what you’re really feeling—and why. I work with the emotional currents in and around you. Whether you’re holding grief, guilt, confusion, or hope, I help you unpack it gently, without judgment. These sessions are where we dive deep and get honest with what your soul is trying to tell you. Think of it as emotional translation with a spiritual lens. 🔹 Intuitive Guidance I work with people in transition—people who are shifting, waking up, letting go, or starting over. I don’t believe in giving people all the answers. I believe in helping you hear the answers that are already inside you. I hold space, reflect what I see and feel, and walk with you as you find your own footing. “You don’t need fixing. You need witnessing.” 🔹 Energy Field Interpretation I sense energy not in visuals, but in sensation—pressure, heat, texture, silence. When I sit with your energy, I can feel the weight of what you’re carrying, where you’re blocked, and where your light still shines through. I share what I pick up in ways that are gentle but clear. It’s not about judgment—it’s about recognition. 🔹 Touch-Based Insight (Psychometry) Sometimes I work with objects—something meaningful to you, or tied to a memory or person. When I hold it, I often get emotional impressions, flashes of memory, or a strong sense of what was left unsaid. This is especially helpful for grief work, closure, or understanding the emotional imprints left behind in your li

Describe your areas of expertise.I’ve been aware of my ability for a little over a decade now—but looking back, it was always there. I just didn’t have a name for it. As a kid, I felt things I couldn’t explain. I’d walk into a room and know if something had just happened—if someone was angry, grieving, hiding pain. I’d pick up on tension people tried to smile through. I used to think I was just overly sensitive, or maybe just “too much.” I didn’t realize I was reading energy. Emotions. Unspoken truth. The real turning point came in my teens, when I had a moment I couldn’t write off as a coincidence or intuition anymore—it was something deeper. From there, I started exploring everything I could. I read, I studied, I worked with mentors who understood energy and emotion the way I did. But honestly? The biggest growth came through experience. Every conversation, every connection, every time I trusted what I felt instead of second-guessing it—that’s what strengthened this gift. Over the years, I’ve learned how to set boundaries with energy (because feeling everything all the time is exhausting), how to ground myself, and how to listen more clearly without taking on other people’s pain as my own. I still consider myself a student of this work. Energy is always shifting. People are endlessly complex. There’s always more to learn—but I’ve come a long way. These days, I can sit with someone, tune in quietly, and offer insight that’s rooted in more than just what they say—it’s rooted in what they’re feeling. And to me, that’s the real power of this gift: helping people feel seen in ways they didn’t know they needed.