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Chapter Two
Opening the Psychic Closet Doors
Coming out of the psychic closet and letting people know that I was a psychic so unnerved me that I did not do it until I was thirty-six years old. This was simply because I was afraid of being ridiculed.
As most are well aware, the church tells us psychics are supposed to be of the devil. When I was a little girl, people looked at me as if I was different. At times I thought it was because my parents were divorced but I can't remember the number of times an adult told me I was mature beyond my years.
As a very serious young lady looking at the children my age, I knew I was different. Even my classmates treated me more like an adult. Needing to know the answers to any question that crossed my mind, I pestered my teachers constantly. One or two even gave me a philosophers nickname, Aristotle.
Although I knew I was different I didn't want anyone to look at me that way. Because I saw things others could not, I stood a little aloof and watched my fellow classmates as if I were watching a movie. I was part of that real life movie but was able to watch the action from a different prospective.
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