“Are you talking to a man with long hair, who only wears black, and whose name starts with the letter D? Oh, and who are these three women surrounding you, almost like handmaidens?” asked a curious voice on the phone.
“Holy shit,” I mouthed to my friends as we sat at Formosa Cafe’s rooftop in West Hollywood on a clear night in early 2021.
The voice belonged to Samantha, a psychic healer based in Georgia, who my friend Roxy recommended I speak to after one of our late-night existential talks. (You know, the kind when you’re wondering what you’re doing with your life one minute, then laugh-crying over microwave popcorn while watching Gerard Butler in a 2000s romantic comedy the next.) On the precipice of graduating college, deciding on a career path, and navigating a dating life which felt more like being a contestant on a bad reality TV show, I felt an indistinguishable thirst for hope disguised as direction.
Samantha has been Roxy’s family’s healer for years, providing palm readings via hour-long phone call sessions and pixelated images of tarot cards. While I am not religious, astrology has been an attractive alternative; as an Aquarius Sun, Scorpio Moon, and Leo Rising, I appreciate self-reflection, personal insights, and enjoy rationalizing my emotions with Olympian precision. I also wanted to try something new. So I sent a blue-turned-green text to Samantha to see when she was next available. Days passed without a reply from Samantha, and I debated sending a desperate follow-up message. Then, before I had to beg, Samantha sent me a date, time, and smiley face emoji to confirm our session.
On the day of my first reading with Samantha, she was about four hours late to our scheduled phone call. When I tried calling her, it went to automated voicemail. With some late-materializing plans to go out with friends, I decided the stars were not aligned for me, at least for tonight, and hopped in my friend’s car. Mid-way through appetizers and cocktails, I saw Samantha’s name pop up on my phone.
“Hello? Samantha?” I said over whatever Top 40s song was playing.
Within the span of five minutes, Samantha had skipped pleasantries and knew all about my three Italian mothers (my mother and her sisters), my current complicated situationship, and my dreams of becoming a writer. I was so taken aback by the accuracy that I ran to the bathroom and sat with a cocktail napkin and pen on my knee, writing every word she said.
Four years later, I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve scheduled sessions with Samantha. Do I think Samantha is legit? Yes. She’s eccentric, gracious in her delivery, and talking with her feels more productive than a typical therapy session. If I had to guess, I’ve called her about five to six times a year for about $125 per session, which comes close to over $3,000. I’ve also sent her number to several of my close friends, who’ve also enjoyed speaking with her and gaining insight into the relationship dynamics within their own lives. I cannot say I completely cringe at the price tag, even though, as a freelancer who for most of her early adult life has lived off of scholarships, I am making a financial choice some might mock or warn against.
Growing up in a non-nuclear and non-religious family, I never considered myself a person of faith. Spiritually speaking, besides watching fellow Long Islander Theresa Caputo on Long Island Medium, and participating in the odd meditative yoga class, I did not have a spiritual practice in any sense. I grew up as an only child who had both sets of grandparents pass before I could attend grade school; a connection to family wisdom and ancestry severed. As a product of alternative lifestyles, Italian superstitions, and a muddled connection to the past, I was and still am the perfect client for alternative healing practitioners.
Yet I feel no shame typing Samantha’s name into my Zelle app. Nor Diane Rose’s, another incredible healer a friend recommended. If Samantha is my southern belle psychic, Diane is like my fast-talking Northeast relative who knows better than me, always. Whereas Samantha’s expertise lies in palm-readings and tarot cards, Diane focuses on analyzing the astrological birth chart. Diane is a fiery, wise, and direct healer who hails from New Jersey and provides in-depth insight about current relationship dynamics simply by hearing the first names of two people.
You could argue it is through Diane that I’ve gleaned self-advocacy, clear-cut confidence, and poise in communicating my needs and desires. Diane’s bluntness is often a hysterical, necessary, and endearing wake up call when it has come to my personal relationships. “Oh, honey, he’s got too many cobwebs, he may love you, but he’ll never get out of his own way,” she once said about a dead-end situationship. “You’re a very strong person but you cannot play mommy, psychiatrist, and life coach to everyone,” she said about how I bury myself in business to cope with self-doubt. “If you cannot communicate to the person you’re with, you’re replaying your relationship with your father and have to get the f*** out,” she says pretty much every session.
Over the years, I’ve collected pages of journal entries recounting my sessions with Samantha and Diane. Some of their predictions never came close to coming true, and others were eerily accurate. Samantha had predicted when I would enter into my first adult relationship, where I would attend grad school, and who would be important influences in my career—down to the specific city and month. After sessions, I would oscillate between calm, inspired, and frustrated. Every session was like looking into a two-way mirror where what you’ve hoped for and what fate had in store were both playing out. But while some sessions were emotionally taxing, my thirst for knowledge won out. Always, I’d end up reaching out again.
If I had to pinpoint why I can’t stop spending money on psychics, I’d say it’s because I’m often seeking out experiences, people, and places which grant permission to openly feel, act, and release. My love for speaking to healers has allowed me to connect more with friends and family, and opened up the door for joy, laughter, and healing in my life during difficult times. And while some people in my life may raise their eyebrows or shy away from speaking to a healer, I continue to live authentically—whether it follows the predicted-psychic plot or not.
Plus, some of my greatest stories now begin with: “You’re never going to believe what my psychic told me.”