So, walking into a school solely dedicated to helping people like me with psychic abilities was like finding a treasure trove right in my neighborhood. But what really knocked my socks off was finally meeting someone who got my level of weirdness. For the longest time, I thought the voices in my head, the visions dancing before my eyes, and the dreams swirling in my mind were just signs of some mental quirk. Sure, I’d heard snippets about others going through similar stuff post-spiritual awakening, but finding folks who truly understood what I was experiencing was like finding a needle in a haystack, especially since I kept my inner circle super tight.

So, when I stumbled upon this teacher, a potential mentor, at the school, I was beyond thrilled. In her workshops, it felt like she was speaking my language, my spiritual dialect. I could finally spill about how I connected with the spirit realm, how my visions unfolded, and she got it. I felt seen, you know? Despite the lack of diversity in those circles, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I’d found my tribe.

During one workshop, I casually mentioned my dad’s initiation into Regla de Ocha. Even though I’d never been initiated myself, I’d witnessed plenty of others slipping into spiritual trances. For those not in the know, a trance is when you let some otherworldly entity take the wheel for a bit, using your body as their vessel to communicate or dance through. While I’d never actively tried to trance, there were moments when I felt like I was channeling energies in other ways.

Because I aced some of the workshop exercises, the teacher invited me back to explore further, see if I had what it takes to trance. I was pumped for the chance to learn more, so back to the school I went, eager to soak up whatever my new “mentor” had in store.

When I got there, though, it wasn’t just me and the teacher. She had another student in tow. We headed to a séance room with a séance cabinet—a sort of psychic closet where mediums summon spirits. I wasn’t nervous, having been in that chair during previous workshops, but this time felt different. As I settled into the chair, the teacher told me to “begin.” I was lost. I’d never tried to trance before, so I asked for some guidance. She tried to walk me through a meditation, but I just couldn’t get my head in the game.

When it became clear that I couldn’t trance on cue, the teacher started asking about my cultural background. It felt like she assumed that because I’m a person of color with a dad who practiced Regla, I should automatically know how to trance. When I didn’t live up to her expectations, she sent me packing. The whole thing was mortifying. On the way home, I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut.

For days, I replayed the whole mess in my head until spirit swooped in with a pep talk about not letting others define my abilities. That’s when it hit me—I wasn’t going to let this so-called “expert” tell me what I could or couldn’t do. I was determined to prove to myself that I was a kickass bitch who could trance like a pro. And you know what? I did it……