“If I knew then what I know now…” is proclaimed often by many people who live with regrets or shame and even hope for a brighter future. A woulda-coulda-shoulda mindset appears, at first, to offer propulsion toward future thinking and living. Then, we may realize that woulda-coulda-shoulda thinking stymies our growth and potential, feeds self-doubt, and can encourage resentment and depression. It’s easy to blame the past—ourselves and others—and it’s easy to fall into a state of despair and daydreaming of life’s intersections and ill-begotten turns. What I love most about growing my psychic abilities is the evolving empowerment and acceptance it affords. There is a comfort in knowing where I stand presently with people, acknowledging limitations and lessons, and connecting the past and present in ways that provide great insight and hope for the future. Attempting to predict the future can become a double-edged sword of possible truths; but it’s foolish to suspend life until we know what’s ahead. I’ve made that mistake and I hope you can avoid this potential pitfall. Life is for living, even when we feel and know death is imminent.

What I’ve come to realize in my adult life and awakened psyche is that I always could sense what many people thought about me and my opinions. I knew who approved of me, believed in me, disliked me, and disapproved of me. I could sense their bewilderment, intimidation, disinterest, and curiosity. I also had a strong sense, even at the young age of 5, of others’ hypocrisy, unhappiness, frustration, and joy. I didn’t share these perceptions with others because I couldn’t put them into words then. My mother didn’t engage with me in conversations. She talked to, not with, us and told us what to do, but she wasn’t very interested in what we were thinking or feeling. She clearly disliked confrontation, was exceedingly impatient, and lived according to the standards of that time—keeping a clean house was top priority. Her persona of having life under her full control was of profound importance and she’d furiously deny my adolescent proclamations to the contrary. Needless to say, Tricia NoCapicia often dreamt of life without her mother’s oppressive nature and cruel indifference when she hammered my head with rigid rules and demands.

Several people over the years have asked me how I didn’t evolve into an alcoholic or drug addict. A few said they didn’t think they could have survived my mother’s callousness, even with my level of stubborn determination. However, I have come to recognize, during these last six years, that my unknown early empathic abilities were the impetus to my life on the peripheral. In a way, living on that peripheral has saved me. Empathic abilities kept me sane when I thought I was losing my mind in adolescence and the depths of isolation and loneliness threatened my mental health. But a voice inside my head implored me to keep going and not to succumb to hopelessness even though I was in a predominantly helpless state. Somehow, I knew that there would be an escape, just not at that moment in time. I never thought for long about where my resolve came from or how I could turn so quickly from suicidal thoughts. I’d rummaged though the medicine cabinet for what might kill me quickly. I didn’t know exactly what to look for at 15 years old and didn’t realize at the time that even aspirin could do the trick. I gave up and then quickly forgot about that singular quest. Somehow the tide turned; most likely when I got a cashier job at 16. Newfound income, freedom, new friendships, and adventures were a salvation of sorts. Life became fun and freer.

I realized in my adult life that feelings of loneliness or ostracization are apropos to many psychics. It isn’t easy for someone to feel looked at and seen at a subconscious level, especially when it is quite difficult to vocalize these subconscious feelings. How does someone say to me or other empaths, “I feel as if you’re seeing right into and through me.” Instead, they look away and avoid eye contact and conversation. Some people—even total strangers—project looks of displeasure with nary a word from me. We were in NYC this past December and I was pushing through a revolving door. A woman entered from the other side, looked at me, and drew her head back with disapproving apprehension and her mouth twisted into a scowl. The encounter lasted a few seconds and, for once, I was neither surprised nor concerned.

Diving into the depths of our mind while clinging to the shallow end of subconscious thought, I imagine, is a common conundrum for psychics… until it cannot be denied any longer. As I grow older and more powerful in my psychic gifts, I recognize more and more the instances of earlier perceptions. Seeing beyond a seemingly friendly teacher’s smiles and feeling their dislike for no apparent reason is unsettling for a child. But I knew as early as the 1^st grade that my attention to boys that I liked garnered disapproval from my teacher. I remember thinking so-and-so was cute and I would stare and smile at him often. I wonder why I thought so much about this boy at such a young age. Wasn’t I too young to know what romance was? How can a 6-year-old be in search of love from a boy her age? Sure, a psychologist may say that my lack of maternal love was an impetus behind my outward longing. But, at 6? What did I know about love for a boy? I didn’t have these feelings for boys outside the classroom. Looking back, I wonder if my “spidey sense” knew of future love—what it felt like and the warm fuzzy feeling it’d bring. Perhaps in being attracted to this little boy, I was forward thinking to a safe and happy love space.

Life as a psychic, obviously, is never shallow. The depths of our subconscious call to us whether we search for answers or not. Our angels and guides steer us away from danger, open our eyes to possibilities, and nudge us toward many awakenings. More than one psychic has said to me in the past, “Tricia, your angels are all around you, but you don’t ask for help.” I realize now it’s most likely a response to what a psychologist told me years ago—that I suffered from abandonment. For quite a while, I couldn’t recall the word. I remembered her summation as “betrayal” but knew I had it wrong. My fellow college classmates at the time would say, “No, Tricia, she said abandonment.” Seems I couldn’t accept this painful truth then. Psychic awareness brings forth many painful truths. Even if prophesies don’t occur or unfold exactly as envisioned, the emotions are always under the surface. Disappointment, frustration, rejection, stagnation, a desperate need for change, approval, empowerment, freedom, and reciprocal love can be felt even before they’re seen. Opening our third eye to outer and self-awareness is a powerful gift indeed.

The gift of psychic awareness rips off the Band-Aid of old wounds and allows necessary healing to occur. And, when we become aware of the motivations of others, we realize that people’s old wounds have caused them great pain that they pass on to others. The same can be said for our wounds and how we project them onto others. Psychic awareness has allowed tremendous healing in my life, acceptance of what I cannot control, empathy toward others, and hope for the future even if it’s filled with some dread. Life = death as death = life. Death of love, death of relationships, death of a career, death of traditions, and literal deaths are all part of the life cycle. I learned these lessons as a very young child with a slight physical disability. Young children can sense danger, apathy, frustration, love, and hatred in others. Not all children are masked in innocence; some suffer terribly amid neglect and abuse. I was fortunate to be surrounded by loving aunts who knew I was harshly judged by an unhappy mother. I knew, at a deep level, that I was loved by my aunts. I knew that they understood my emotional abandonment. They filled in the gaps just by smiling lovingly and giving me hugs. I knew their feelings were genuine. The silent message was, “You’re not wrong. And you are loved.” Years later, my beloved godfather would say to me time and again, “I don’t care what they say, Tricia, you’re ok.” I was grateful then and now to have an adult in the room willing and able to reassure me about my value in this world.

I hope you find value in my words and remind yourself of your value in the world. And I hope that you learn to empower yourself with your own empathic abilities which can be life-affirming, rejuvenating, and reveal to us our purpose in living. Thank you for reading and sharing your life with me. See you soon.