Isn’t it interesting how the loudest voice we hear is often our own? And sometimes, if we are honest, it is not always the kindest voice.
Recently, I travelled to the UK with my sister, Arlene Mills, to take part in an intensive mediumship training called The Confident Medium with Lynn Probert. The week was both exhilarating and exhausting, full of learning, stretching, and stepping deeper into the sacred work of connecting with Spirit.
But, one of the biggest lessons of the week happened the very first night, and it set the tone for the rest of the week.
As I settled into my room the first night and after meeting all the other students and doing some training, the familiar chatter from my mind began to creep in. Those quiet thoughts that start softly and then grow louder. Thoughts telling me I didn’t belong there. That I wasn’t good enough. That everyone else was more capable, more experienced, more deserving of being there than I was.
If you have ever felt that before, you know exactly what I mean.
But this time something was different; I caught it.
That same night, I sat down with my journal and began writing. I acknowledged everything I was feeling. The fear, the doubt, the insecurity. I didn’t push it away or pretend it wasn’t there. I simply allowed the thoughts to come out onto the page. And then I made a promise to myself. For the rest of the week, I would not speak badly about myself. Not once. Instead, I would speak to myself the way I would speak to someone I love, with encouragement, patience, and kindness.
And I kept that promise.
What I noticed over the following days was remarkable. When those old thoughts tried to sneak back in, I gently replaced them. Instead of criticizing myself, I reminded myself that I was meant to be there. That I was learning. That I was doing beautiful work. Slowly, something shifted inside of me. The pressure softened, the fear quieted, and my confidence began to grow.
By the end of the week, I left feeling grounded and deeply connected to the sacred work I do with our Higher Power. I had been challenged to trust the messages that came through, to dig deeper into the evidence, the memories, and the love that Spirit wanted to share. More than once, I found myself looking into wet and misty eyes across from me as people felt the presence of their loved ones again.
My biggest takeaway from that week was this: Spirit already trusts me. I am often the one who has to learn to trust myself.
Taking the time to acknowledge what I was feeling turned out to be incredibly powerful. In many ways, it reminded me of the lesson I wrote about in my children’s book Bella and the Bossy Driver. Sometimes the voice in our mind gets bossy. It tells us things that simply are not true. But we have the ability to notice that voice, pause, and choose a different one. A kinder voice. A truer voice.
Look at me. Fifty-one years old and still learning.
But perhaps that is exactly why we are here. To learn, to experience, and to grow.
And as I reflect on that week, I know without a doubt that my Ruby was gently reminding me of this lesson as well. My girl, who continues to show me again and again that love does not end when life changes form. Throughout that week she came through other mediums with undeniable evidence, memories, and the same beautiful spirit she carried in life. It felt like she was right there beside me, quietly cheering her mama on. Ruby has always been one of my greatest teachers. Her life, and even her passing, continues to ripple outward in ways I could never have imagined. She reminds me that courage does not mean we are free of doubt. It means we keep moving forward with love anyway.
So today I invite you to notice the way you speak to yourself. If your inner voice is being harsh or critical, pause for a moment and ask yourself how you would speak to someone you love who was feeling the same way. Then offer those same words to yourself.
You deserve that kindness too.
And sometimes, the smallest shift in how we speak to ourselves can open the door to the very path we were meant to walk.