When was the last time you ignored your feelings… and it turned out right?

It’s not about how many psychic classes you take.
It’s about whether you can remember what was happening inside of you while you were going through something.

I like to tell people… I’m a collector of feelings.

Not surface emotions—but the way my body reacts in a moment.
The biochemical response.

Do I suddenly feel tired?
Is it only on one side of my body?
Is it a heavy fatigue… or something I can’t even put words to yet?
Is it a cold feeling moving from the outside in?
And if it is… does it feel solid, or hollow in the center?

These are the things I pay attention to.

I knew I was empathic early on—especially in high school.
A quiet observer. A closet psychic.

I kept everything to myself.
The world didn’t really have a language for what I was sensing… and honestly, neither did I.

So I watched.
How people acted… and what they were really feeling underneath.

And over time, I started second-guessing it.
Because people would say, “Maybe it’s just you.”
“Maybe it’s your insecurity.”

So I believed them. Sometimes.

I would get tired… zone out…
and then suddenly, in my mind’s eye, I’d see a tunnel.

It would pull me in.
I’d see people I knew… having conversations.
It felt real—like I was accidentally stepping into something I wasn’t supposed to see.

So I learned to play it off.
Like I knew nothing.

But in my twenties… I got tired of being told it was all in my head.
Tired of being made to feel like I was the problem.

So I flipped.

I started calling things out.
At work, with friends… I’d say what people really meant. What they were really feeling.

And the funny thing?
They didn’t deny it.

Some even asked me how I knew.

I became… a little intense.
A little sharp around the edges.
A psychic with something to prove.

But life has a way of softening you.

Through spirituality… through experience… through being humbled…
I started to understand something deeper.

Not everything needs to be said.
Not everything needs to be revealed.

People show you what they’re ready to show.
And sometimes… your role is simply to feel it, understand it, and hold space.

Now, when I teach intuition, I always come back to one thing:

Remember the feeling.

Not the story.
Not the explanation.
The feeling.

What was happening in your body… in that exact moment—whether it was painful,

joyful, confusing, or quiet.

That awareness is what makes everything you learn actually work.

So yes…
I’m still a collector of feelings.

Just a little softer now.
A little quieter with it.

And maybe that’s the real skill…
not just feeling everything—

…but knowing when to simply sip it… like tea… and let it pass through you.