How I knew that I was Born to FREAK: Angels by Debra Smouse
When I was three years old, my mother took me to the doctor to share a concern that perhaps something wasn’t quite right with me.
“Dr. Cook – something is wrong with this child. She tells me she has a little green man who floats around her. Why is she seeing things that aren’t there?”
“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about. It’s just an imaginary friend. Imaginary friends are signs of intelligence,” the doctor assured my mother.
After the observation of this conversation, and the relief that this doctor visit didn’t end with an injection of any sort, I watched my mother’s reactions more closely.
My mother took me home and often talked about my wild imagination. I could hear the relief in her voice every time she told the story. I began to be more cautious in what I said.
It was quite clear to me:I was different from the rest of my family. Everyone else had dark hair and tanned easily, but I was redheaded and fair. The physical differences, though, were simply the tip of the iceberg. I believed that angels were among us, and that the animals often brought us messages. I could get lost for hours playing in the richness of my mind and reveling in the pure love I felt from the world around me.
I learned that in order to lead a less-scrutinized existence, I would need to keep the goings-on in the world of the spirits a secret. When my intuition grew stronger, I often turned a blind heart to the wisdom I knew, and relied upon only what I could see.
I stuffed my heart and soul into the mold of what was expected of me.
As time passed, I abandoned my imaginary friend, even though I knew in my heart he never abandoned me. I lost touch with that world of instinct and angels. Animals simply existed alongside us humans without being carriers of divine messages, and angels only lived in heaven.
I was a model child. I got good grades and a scholarship to college. I married and learned what was expected of me. I also learned to keep up the appearance of living the perfect white-picket-fence life. When I had children, I dutifully joined the PTA.
And then, my life began crumbling around me. My creativity was languishing, leaving my soul feeling empty. Behind the white picket fence, my marriage was a sham. I put my marriage on life support, tried to encourage my children to be creative, and made an effort to find my faith again.
My gut told me that in order to actually live life, I would need to tear down the picket fence and divorce – that in order for my children to have the example of a happy and passionate mother, I would need to break free from the box I had forced myself to live within when I was three.
Finally, at the ripe old age of 36, I learned to listen to my gut. When my (now ex) husband once again threated me with divorce because I wasn’t conforming to his idea of perfect, I agreed. I knew in my heart that I could no longer maintain the relationship, or the illusions, any longer.
By the time my 38th birthday rolled around, I had begun seeing the world with my three-year-old eyes again. I was living with faith and embracing the love around me. I took to heart the messages from God that He sent through the animals. I learned to trust my gut.
I began to believe again that angels did indeed live around us. In fact, I came to the conclusion that the little green man who hadfloated above my bed and sat across me for tea was my first Guardian Angel (a realization I didn’t have until my current guardian angel began to make appearances in my dreams).
Now, at 44, I’m back to being comfortable with the fact that within the world exists two planes: the physical plane, in which there is truth in what we can see or physically touch; and the spiritual plane, in which all around us are the messages from the animals and the whispers of the angels within our hearts.
I believe that everyone has within them the answers that will lead them to living the shiniest, sexiest, most amazing version of who they truly are meant to be.
It just may take believing in the whisperings of the angels.