Liberty Forrest

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As a Psychic and Medium, This Question Always Cuts to the Bone

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Perspective is an interesting thing. The way it can move and change … on a whim, in a mood, over time. It’s a shapeshifter of sorts, creeping, sneaking, stealthily taking you from one place to another. You’re its hostage and you don’t even know it. Until suddenly, you find yourself in a strange, new land.

We begin in a place where we appreciate the value of the service provided by tradespeople, by lawyers, dentists, or engineers. We go to art galleries and appreciate stunning paintings. We enjoy flawless concerts by philharmonic orchestras or our favourite bands and world-class singers.

We respect that these people had years of training to enhance natural abilities and to acquire skills we appreciate. We see them as professionals who deserve to earn a living for the benefits they bring to our lives.

However, when it comes to the spiritual and healing arts, it’s often a different story. Many people presume that psychics, mediums, and other energy workers or healers are doing something that “comes naturally,” they should be expected to do it on demand. And at no cost to the recipient.

What’s worse is they have no idea what it has cost us to get there. No idea how difficult our journeys have been. First, to even overcome our own fears about these abilities, and to understand and accept them. Then to work on honing our skills and developing the confidence and life skills required to use them ethically and responsibly.

And the real kicker: to believe we deserve to be paid for them. We are usually givers by nature, born with a desire to nurture and help others. We jump in and want to support, offer solutions, or bring comfort to those in need, just as easily as we breathe. We feel as if taking payment for it would be like taking payment from our children for being their parents. We undermine the years of struggle and the work it has taken for us to be able to use those abilities to make a difference for those who need them.

It is a long and painful journey to reach the point where we see the value in our gifts, in the culmination of our natural abilities, the study and practice, our lived experience and the effort it has taken to be able to provide a meaningful service that assists others in living better lives.

So when our services are not valued in the same way as more traditional or tangible ones, it strikes a far deeper blow than one might imagine. It rips open long-standing wounds that are always tender and bruised. It taunts our self-doubt, daring it to prove it’s long gone when we know it isn’t. It’s the bully on the playground who lacks any comprehension of the damage it’s doing to our sense of self-worth.

Because this is about part of who we are, and not just what we do, it makes us question ourselves and our value as people — all over again.

And for me — as for many others — it punches me in the face with childhood trauma and the decades-long fallout I’ve worked so hard to heal.

As a child, I had no value. I was not worth protecting from the violations and abuse in my home. I was still small when I gave up my little girl dream of acting. After all, my (adopted) mother said repeatedly that I was “stupid.” That I “would never amount to anything.” That I “could never do that.”

More painful than the words was the shaming way in which they were delivered. Her frown. Her disapproval. Her anger.. How dare I have a dream? I am not worthy of believing I could become anything at all.

I loved to draw and when I was lucky enough to have some paper, I would draw a picture for my mother. “What am I supposed to do with this?” she would always ask. Immediately, my little offering would find itself crumpled into a ball and tossed in the rubbish.

I stopped giving her my little gifts. They had no value. Neither did I.

I was 16 when rather suddenly — and horribly — I was forced into a frightening new world. A world in which the dead began speaking to me. Even worse, it was at a time when no one discussed such things.

Once that can of worms had been opened, these abilities grew and developed very much without my assistance for the first 15 years or so, by which time this sort of thing had become much more mainstream.

Also during those years, I had been on a chaotic and turbulent journey. It was a journey that would get a whole lot worse before it would take a few hesitant steps toward being better. The uglier it got, the more I sought answers in my outer world until finally, I understood that I needed to go inward. That was the only place I would find healing.

If only that realisation had been all it would take to make it happen …

For many years, my self-esteem and feelings of self-worth were non-existent. With a background of emotional, physical and sexual abuse, by the time I was 20 I believed my purpose in this life was to be the recipient of other people’s misery. My behaviour tanked. I put myself in risky situations. I did things I wish I had hadn’t. But desperation and self-hatred will take us to some terrible, dark places. All I really wanted was to be loved, but in my desperate search for it, I went completely off the rails.

I’d grown up believing that I had no value and did not deserve good things. I heard with some regularity that I was “a bother.” My mother often said, “Go away! I just want to get rid of you!”

It was no wonder I wouldn’t dare ask for anything. I didn’t want to be a bother. I didn’t expect anyone to give me anything. Yet I was only too happy to give whatever I could to others if it could help them in some way.

The more I gave, the more people took. Bad people, in particular. I suppose I asked for that, given my life choices at the time. How I wish I could forget them. Mostly, they remain stuffed in a dark and ugly place somewhere deep in my memory. But every now and then, they surface. They remind me of that darkness and make sure I will never judge others for theirs.

My behaviour and self-loathing hit rock bottom. There was nowhere to go but up. Ever so slowly, I began taking baby steps toward self-respect and self-love. It would be a long journey, but it was one I knew I needed to take.

While I was walking that path of healing, my abilities as a psychic and medium picked up steam. As I explored this aspect of myself, I began sharing my gifts with others. Simultaneously, I was making progress on healing the damage from earlier years. Over the next couple of decades, that journey included various studies, education and training, such as social work and hypnosis, and later, homeopathy and more.

During those years, a pattern emerged. My fees were always much lower than what others were charging. My excuse was that I wanted to make my services available to everyone. That was true, but I knew the bigger reason. Although I knew there was great value in what I was offering and the benefit for recipients, I attributed it to the modalities being so powerful. I refused to give any credit to my skill, training or experience. And therefore, I kept my fees terribly low and often gave away my services.

Until one particular woman came to me for hypnosis. At the end of the session, she raved about how wonderful it had been and how good I was. She said that when she had initially called to book a session, she almost didn’t do it when she heard my low fee. She said, “I didn’t think you’d be any good because you were charging so much less than everyone else.”

But something in my voice made her come anyway and she was so pleased she had done so. She insisted that I charge her at least 50% more than I’d asked, and made me promise to raise my fees, which I did.

She spoke about the value in what I was offering, what it meant to others, and that I was a significant part of why my treatments were effective.

My own healing journey continued and my self-esteem gradually improved. I had begun to understand exactly what that woman had been talking about. However, there were still numerous occasions on which I gave away my services. I was a sucker for a hard luck story. I would cave and offer freebies.

And on virtually every one of those occasions, the treatment was not valued. I could spend several hours (as a homeopath) working out a remedy for someone and then they wouldn’t bother to come and pick it up.

There were so many ways in which my services were disrespected and not treated as though they were valuable. And they never would be.

Not until I stopped treating them that way.

The more I healed my inner world, the stronger and more accurate my readings were. For example, I had begun noticing that during conversations with friends, spirits would appear next to them and insist that I speak up about them being present.

Over and over again, I saw that they valued and appreciated my abilities, which by then I had been working on developing for several years.

Eventually, my friends insisted that I hang out a shingle, start reading for strangers and get paid for it. It took a while to feel comfortable with all of this but they kept reminding me that I was at least as good as many readers they had seen. They assured me that I was offering a valuable service — and that I deserved payment for it just as much as anyone else.

A few years prior to this, I had moved from Canada to England. Due to a sequence of events that began with my first art exhibition, I was invited to do “psychic phone-ins” on BBC Radio, which I did approximately every month for about 5 years. Another BBC presenter invited me to appear on stage as a medium, connecting audience members with loved ones in spirit, which I did for some time. I was also hired to banish nasty spirits from people’s homes in various parts of England.

For decades, I’d heard how much recipients appreciated and needed the messages I’d passed along. With my background in social work and various alternative healing modalities, plus my considerable life experience, I had a lot to offer to round out my readings. I offered guidance and insights to help clients move forward. I understood the value in what I was offering.

So what has all of this got to do with a question that cuts to the bone?

Everything. And although that question comes in many forms and with different words, the meaning is always clear. It is most often asked by complete strangers or people who barely know us, and will not have been invited in any way, shape or form.

It comes shortly after they discover we’re psychics or mediums. “Oh! That’s so cool! What do you see around me?”

I’ve received long, rambling, desperate emails through my website and at the end, “Here’s my number. Call me right now. And I can’t pay you.”

Or I’m talking with someone I barely know, and as they’re discussing one issue or another, they say, “Tell me what you pick up about this.” Or a message comes from a virtual stranger, “Can I have a quick reading?”

The question most hated by psychics and mediums comes in many forms, but it’s always some version of, “How can you help me right now? And I’m not paying you to do it.”

Psychics and mediums are not alone in this. I’ve often had the same treatment in my capacity as a homeopath or in other ways, and I know of many others in various professions who have experienced it, too. Marriage counsellors, psychologists, doctors, plumbers, even my dental hygienist said the other day that people hit her up for free treatments all the time.

I have a hard time imagining expecting anyone to work for nothing — even though in my earlier adult life, I did not respect my value and was happy not to be paid for the services I provided. That was different, you see. A double standard, as much as I didn’t want to admit it. I had a set of rules for myself (“I have no value and do not deserve payment”) and a set for everyone else (“Their time, energy, resources, knowledge etc. have loads of value and of course they should be paid well”).

I pay my friends who are hairstylists or mechanics or offer other services I need. That’s their livelihood. I would have to pay if I went elsewhere; why shouldn’t I pay my friends? If they want to offer a discount or even a freebie, that’s lovely and I’m grateful but I cannot imagine expecting it. And certainly not when I don’t even (or barely) know the person.

I’m pretty sure that the people who expect freebies would not be happy to have the boss say, “Oh, by the way, we’re not paying you today.”

Picture this: I go to the supermarket and load up on food. I get to the cashier and say, “I did free readings all week so give me all this food free, too.” The cashier says, “Sure, hun, take all you want.”

Uh…probably not.

Yet when we provide our valuable services, the recipients benefit. Their lives are improved or enhanced in some way. But if we do not receive anything in return, there is no balance. In fact, our energy and resources have been depleted. There should be an exchange of energy so that both parties benefit.

Plus we are giving up a chunk of an extremely precious, non-renewable resource — our Time. And with every tick of the clock, Time becomes even more valuable because there is that much less of it available to us.

As we get older, we’re much more mindful of this. Now that I’m well aware there is a lot more sand in the bottom of my hourglass than in the top, I am even less inclined to waste any of those precious seconds. And definitely not on someone who doesn’t appreciate just how precious those seconds are, and who does not wish to compensate me in a meaningful way.

I remember how awful it was to believe I had no value. No worth. I was 42 years old before I realised that these beliefs were nothing more than my mother’s opinions. They were not facts, yet they had been the foundation for my life and choices, just as surely as if they had been the truth.

After decades of self-destructive beliefs adversely impacting my life, I learned that if I don’t value myself and what I have to offer, no one else will either.

Well, I do value what I offer. I value the time and money I spent on my education in social work, the 4-year homeopathy program, and all my other professional training. I value the energy spent and the suffering I endured with painful lessons learned. I value the cost of the counselling I received over several years, which has allowed me to pass along my own healing and insights to those who need them. I value the countless hours I’ve spent honing my abilities as a psychic and medium. I value the intense energy drain those abilities have caused me at times, as well as the angst and emotional upset that can come with doing readings.

I value everything that has gone into the incredibly challenging personal and spiritual journey that makes any consultation with me in any capacity a valuable resource for those who are stuck and needing the guidance, support, perspective or direction I can give them.

I value all of this about myself, and much more — and apparently, the people who expect freebies do, too, or they wouldn’t ask me to share these hard-won gifts and skills with them.

Perspectives … those quiet shapeshifters

At the end of the day, if we expect to be paid for the work we do, it is only fair to expect that others — in any industry — should be paid for theirs, too, a perspective that should come naturally to both parties on either side of a service. But this is not always the case.

I contemplate the terrible opinions of me that my mother held. I remember her hurtful — abusive — treatment and I smile. Yes, I smile, because years after her death, I came to understand her in a way that was deeply healing for me. My perspective of her behaviour had shifted into something that allowed me to release that pain and move forward into a happier life of peace and freedom from decades of suffering.

However, she never did see my value and her perspective of me never changed. But somewhere along the way in this tumultuous, colourful journey that has been my life, my own perspective of myself surely did.

Turns out that’s the only one that matters.


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