Ten Short Biographies of Incarnated Mermaids

By William R. Mistele

Introduction (from Mermaid Tales)

If you want a “real” mermaid in a physical body that is half fish and half
woman, you will have to wait until zoology finds either the bones or the
actual living creature. At this time, zoology and paleontology offer us no
evidence that such beings exist in the present world or in the geologic
record.
Mermaids in their own realm on the astral plane are spirits whose souls
have the vibration of water. As such, they not mammals and they are not
fish. Like other beings on the astral plane, they do not eat food or drink
liquids. They are not carbon based life forms. They do not mate or use a
mammalian reproductive system to reproduce. They draw energy from
the water element on the astral plane and from the subtle energy water
emits in the physical world. Yet like many other astral spirits, they can
incarnate in human form as women.
And here is the problem. They grow up initially thinking they are
human. And then each discovers that she is not like other people. This is
rare, but one woman said, “Mother. I am not like other people. Is there
something you are not telling me?” And her mother replied, “You are of
water. You are a mermaid.”
Almost all of these women I meet tell me they are not a human being.
They had to figure this out on their own. There is no user’s manual lying
next to a crib when a child like this is born. If you think about it, if a
mermaid wants to have “a human experience,” it would serve no
purpose for her to know in advance that she is not human. Otherwise,
when she has to deal with a difficult situation, it would be easy for her to
say, “The choices I make do not matter. I am a mermaid. I do not have to
take this life seriously.”
 In our world, there is a strong emphasis on survival. Affection, love,
food, shelter, and protection are scarce resources. And when resources
are scarce, people trade back and forth exchanging what one has for
what another has.
The mermaid realm is not like that. There are no boundaries to defend.
No taxes and no government. No society. No groups. No family. No
fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, sons, or daughters. No birth, no old
age, and no death.
There are no seasons for planting and harvesting. No hard work during
the rest of the year in order to survive winter. No days and nights. No
linear time. Think of the open ocean. The seasons are barely noticeable.
A billion years ago the ocean looks almost the same as it does today.
Mermaids associate freely with whoever they want. When they meet,
they greet each other by sharing all that they are. They can do this
because they are united to the water element in nature and this water
contains a love that endlessly flows through them to others. A mermaid
in her world would stop being a mermaid if she was not giving all of
herself in love to whoever she is with.
What is an incarnated mermaid like? For about eighty per cent of
them:
1. They like to be around large bodies of water. Some draw energy
from water the way we draw energy from breathing.
2. They are empathic such that they feel what others feel. When their
auras pass through other people they sense the other person’s emotional
life as if it is their own. They do not define love in terms of moral
obligations or by referring to metaphysics, theological doctrines, or
beliefs. They can perceive love directly as an energy that flows between
people. They know when love is present and when it is not.
3. In almost every case, they will say they exist to love. And they
never lose their innocence--they cannot stop giving all of themselves to
others. At the same time, they learn they have to conceal their natural
desire to give because people will often misunderstand them, harm them,
or try to abuse them.
 Mermaids Among Us

She is so creative that she is successful even in your

world of sorrow and loss.

The Undine Queen Istiphul

The first thing I remember was seeing my sister born in the hospital. My
mom was sitting on the left side of the room. The walls were salmon
pink and there was a picture of a flower above the bed. Since I was in a
hospital, I could smell the sickness in the air.
I knew that my sister was very special. I had this immediate
protective instinct toward her. I could see this white light around her
and my mom was glowing.
The nurses put my little sister in the incubator and my mom and I ate a
banana. Then my dad went to push the incubator out of the room. But
she was my sister so I pushed the incubator down the hall. I did not
actually push it, but I was holding on to it walking and talking. I could
sense how nervous my dad was, yet he was so gentle. I was two years
old at the time.
I have tons of memories before going to school. For example, at my
fourth birthday party I was spinning in circles in the kitchen. My dad
was caught up in the magic of the moment.
But most of these memories I have blocked from remembering until
just now. My dad and mom were in an abusive relationship. I
remember being in the hallway. I thought my sister was in bed, but she
came down the stairs. I was watching my mom and dad shoving and
hitting each other.
I went into the center at the hallway and screamed at my parents to
stop. They stopped for a moment and went back to fighting. I felt angry
that they would yell at each other in front of my little sister. I could not
understand why they could not just express love. I was four and she was
two at the time.
 I lived near a provincial park. There were a lot of mountains. I felt
protected there even though I would get myself into crazy situations. I
would go into the woods with my sister, but she was good at escaping
from me and others.
When I was walking through the forest I used to see fairies all the
time. I would catch glimpses, but I never met and talked to one. They
were usually girls, blond, and had bright sparking eyes, blue or green.
They had wings that were translucent or the color of whatever they were
wearing. Sometimes they were completely naked and stars trailed
behind them as they moved.
I also could see gnomes even when they were hiding behind the
rocks. I could never catch one. I could not communicate with them
either.
But I often talked to rocks and trees. My sister would join at times as I
talked to trees. The trees always talk back when I was a kid.
Even now, if I touch a tree I can become one with it. They always
whisper to me, usually through telepathy. Each tree type has a different
personality. Birches are angry because we use trees for paper.
My little sister also used to see fairies. She thought she was one of
them. I thought she was too.
She had a deeper connection to animals than I had. She made up her
own dog language and talked to dogs with it. She loved to climb and
hide out in trees.
She stayed true to herself and her intuitive knowledge. She was not
willing to sacrifice the mermaid part of herself to relate to people. I
stopped talking to trees until recently. I totally rejected it because I
noticed others were not doing it, but I would protect her on the
playground from other kids.
My escapades into nature were not always sweet and innocent. There
were a lot of negative beings about as well. They found it easy to feed
off of my energy. There were these things that would come and try to
cut off my ears. I often slept with my ears covered and my grandma
would sit on the edge of my bed and stroke my hair.
There were also different things around me when I would sleep. They
would try to use scare tactics to get me to succumb to their will. Other
times I remember things trying to pull me out of my body. They attached
golden fibers to me to pull on. Even around age sixteen I had to do
everything I could to stay in my body.
I actually only left my body twice when I was young. It started with
lucid dreaming. I remember leaving my body and looking back at my
body lying on the bed. It happened again when I was seventeen. But the
second time was a case of night paralysis when I kept waking up, but I
could not get my body to move.
Many times when I was about to get into bed something would come
up from behind and shove me. The worst time I had this bruising pattern
on my back, but the bruises disappeared after an hour.
Kindergarten was my first time in a social setting with work attached
to it. I could make friends with anybody including the faculty. I
remember that teachers would treat me as their equal. At first they tried
to talk to me as a kid, but I would talk to them as their equal and then
they responded to that.
Growing up I had a natural desire to want to protect kids from being
picked on. I would get angry when kids did not love. I started out with
the idea that not loving was an adult thing. It never occurred to me that
children did not love each other. I did not understand the reasons why
others my age were doing what they were doing. It would never enter
my mind to imitate them. For example, they would gossip and say nasty
things about others. That made no sense to me.
My mother was very religious and overbearing. Anything out of the
ordinary for her was wrong. I had no way of expressing all the things
happening to me. I would see sparks of energy coming off of people
that indicated different emotions. There were streaks like lighting for
anger and a dull blue color for sadness.
But if I ever talked about my experiences, for example, that I had seen
an angel, my mother would throw a fit. She had the pastors come to the
house and do a cleansing. Even though she was Pentecostal and spoke
in tongues, she experienced acute anxiety over the idea of something
spiritual actually manifesting.
 My mother was not exactly positive. She would tell us how she had
given up her career and her body for her kids. She would use us as
leverage against my father. And she would feed off of me emotionally.
It was easy to be influenced by her negativity but I could also see
through it. I felt deep down that everything negative eventually
becomes positive. So I worked at it. I tried to turn her hate and anger
into feeling calm and peaceful. With her, this was not easy. She never
even told us when her birthday was.
My mother had me see counselors as part of the divorce process. She
wanted to put my father in a bad light. I refused to talk about myself
with the different therapists. But I listened. I even ended up counseling
them. This was age eight to eleven.
I have this life-long problem. I exude love and affection. It is not just
my body language and emotional response to others. It is not about my
being open and receptive so that at a glance others know I will respond
to them. When I enter a room, my aura automatically fills the room with
energy so that others feel charged up by my presence. Giving is my
nature. All the same, there is meant to be a balance, a giving and a
receiving. Water is that way--it is always flowing. People, however,
take. They rarely know how to give back.
Especially around age fifteen to seventeen, I was like a free
lunch. Want to feel better, happier, and free of your worries? Just come
over near me and draw on my aura. There were individuals who were
like psychic vampires and I did not know how to shield myself. Even at
church, there were people who would suck the life out of me. I felt very
uncomfortable around them.
A lot of these people did not do this consciously. Even in class at
school the other students would draw upon my energy. I remember
beings so tired. But I could recharge myself very quickly.
I have begun imagining a bubble around myself that protects me from
others. Before this, though, even riding a bus, some guy high on crack
and completely out of it would notice me. The bus would be full of
people and he would be sitting there completely wrapped up in his own
world. But for him it was like there were only the two of us on the bus. I
became his next fix. I had to jump off the bus at the next stop just
before the doors closed because he was already walking toward me and
obviously planning to follow me. I saw him staring at me through the
windows in the door as the bus drove off.
Even walking down the street there have been times when some
stranger will see me and follow me home. I would lose sight of the guy
but when I went into my apartment building, there he would be on the
other side of the street watching. I was a magnet and these individuals
were like iron filings—their attention was suddenly caught and bound by
the field of energy around me.
From age twelve to sixteen I was not allowed to date. My mother was
very strict and kept track of where I went and when I would be
back. But activities at school were okay. So I started studying drama
and music.
I found it very easy to play different instruments. And drama was
especially helpful. In drama, the characters’ actions are determined by
ideas in their heads and the roles the play sets before them. This was a
new concept for me—that people have to look into the mirror of others’
reactions and expectations in order to understand their own feelings.
For me, that is doing things backwards. The external world does not
determine what I feel. My feelings always have greater depth and
beauty than what is going on around me.
All the same, when I was thirteen I was taking some medication for my
skin. It had terrible side effects. That was one of the worst years of my
life. Plus I moved in with my grandma and my alcoholic grandfather.
I first started healing others when I was sixteen and in the marching
band. I had one friend who injured his knee. I put my hands on it and
took the pain away. I also started massaging others in a way that took
away their head or muscle aches.
Though my mother gained sole custody of her children, I realized later
on that my father tried to do everything he could to insure that his
children were happy. But he has his limits. With my younger sister, I
can talk about anything and she accepts it. With my father, I cannot talk
about anything weird or psychic.
It is a shame that he is not more open. Otherwise I am sure we could
have a completely telepathic connection. We take on each other’s
problems. When he and I are together we have a constant exchange of
energy. There is a joining of forces that is protective. But I am still his
daughter, his baby basically.
At other times, I act as his counselor and confidant. I admire and
understand him like nobody else and he does the same for me. Deep
down, I think I have grown into something he has always wanted to be.
I have yet to meet someone who is like me. I have, however, met a
man who is extremely empathic. It is his nature to flow love to
others. His love is like an ocean. There is no end to it.
He has helped me a great deal in learning how to protect myself. He
has researched Western magical traditions and has shown me some
rituals that are useful for stopping unwanted influences.
But he is a man. Being in a male body, he has to carve out his own
identity which he is struggling to do. I do not need to be with a person
to fully experience and celebrate love. He needs to be physically with
someone, not necessarily in a sexual sense, but he needs to be able to
touch to solidify the connection.
If it was not so painful to watch, it would almost be humorous the way
he keeps trying to love human women. These women do not have a clue
as to how to love him back. They sense this ocean of love flowing
through them from him, but that is not what they need. They need to
feel safe, secure, grounded, and wanted. He, however,
just flows love. There are no conditions on it and it is not designed to
possess or to be possessed. There comes a time in his relationships when
the women can no longer relate to him. They are offended that he is not
dependent on them.
He is not a rock star or a celebrity. He has no fame or wealth. But it is
clear he is not like other men. Every day when he works as a bouncer at
a disco a woman he has never met will walk up to him out of the blue
and offer to sleep with him. Like me, he exudes energy. He does not yet
realize that his energy causes women to behave in ways they themselves
do not understand.
Part of the problem both he and I have is that within our souls we are
pure love. But being in a human body and thinking with a human brain
triggers reactions that are out of sync with who we are inside. I need to
continually work on myself so that I can be completely nurturing,
unbiased, and able to love unconditionally to my full capacity. At my
core, I already am those things, but my human form interferes with their
expression.
I now heal from a distance when I have the extra energy. I can do it
with anybody. I have learned to give without exhausting myself. And I
can feel others’ feelings now without pouring myself into the other
person.
I do not heal in order to impress anyone. In this life, I am not here to
specialize in healing. I heal because it feels good to do so. In my college
classes, I will heal another student about twice a week.
Recently, I had to go find my friend who cut herself by accident and
take her the hospital. She called me and was hysterical and then hung
up. I had no idea where she lived.
I hopped a taxi and pointed to a spot on the map and found her
building. I went in and found the right floor and apartment and there she
was. I was guided by pure intuition.
I sometimes know where things are. I do not find lost things for
myself. But I can find them for others.
When I do experience anger, sometimes small objects around me will
begin to move. It is a subconscious thing. When I was young, one time
I worked at it and found I could move objects really well. I could pass
my hand over a pencil for example and get it to move back and forth. I
was not aware at the time that there was anything special about doing
this.
But since then it has been hit and miss. I have to work at it for an
hour or two to make it happen by using my will. It takes
concentration. Other than my sister who has seen me moving things, I
have only told one of my friends about this.
There have been a few times when, in order to protect myself, I have
knocked someone down just using my mind. It is easier to do if the
other person is sensitive. I need either eye contact or a brief touch. The
power comes from universal energy which I summon.
 I had this friend who was constantly chain smoking. To be fair, I think
he was doing it just because his friends were smoking. I argued with
him a great deal about quitting, but he would not quit.
So I imagined I was inside of him and that whenever he went to reach
for a cigarette he would think to himself, “I don’t want that” and then I
visualized him putting the cigarette down. Two weeks later when I saw
him again, he had stopped smoking. He did reach for a cigarette once
but he put it down right away without my saying anything about it.
I draw life force from water. I like to be around large bodies of water
but I can manage with a river. I use watery energy to heal others. If
someone sends me fiery energy to heal me like when I cut my foot, I do
not even feel it. Another person may point out that I am suddenly all hot
and radiant with fiery energy, but I do sense it. I am more attuned to
love that flows like water.
The nature of my empathy is like what I do with trees—I can be
completely one with another person. This is natural for me to do. When
water is poured into a glass, it perfectly fits the container and does not
hold back. That is the way my feelings join with another. But for the
relation to be two ways, the other person has to be able to respond with
the same freedom and depth.
I have had several deep relationships but there still remain large parts
of myself that are open and ready to receive that no one has as of yet
been able to fill. Add to this the fact that I do not need to actually be
physically with someone to feel the full power of the love connection.
The other person can be anywhere on earth and it does not make a
difference to me. I have not yet found a man with this capacity.
Do not get me wrong. I love sex. But for me love and sex are not bound
together. Sex is a natural bodily function. Love is of the heart—it is a
soul to soul connection. Love does not require physical consummation
in order to be fully expressed. Love is what I am.
I recall past lives in short snippets, brief images. When they come,
they are intense and I know right away whether they are true or not. I
have not had any of these visions for the last four months.
In this life, I have always felt that I am about thirty five years old
regardless of the age of my body, whether I am a child, a teenager, or
older. I mentioned that the teachers used to treat me as an adult even in
kindergarten. Even though I am twenty years old now, there is one
person who says that I talk like his grandmother—I bring a life time of
experience to our conversation.
I feel I have always been the same person in each incarnation. I think
if I went back and met myself it would be me. It is the lesson to be
learned in each life that is different.
The first incarnation I recall was as a young girl in Atlantis. I was in a
temple in the shape of a dome with an altar at the center. There were
drums and dancing. I remember there was water all around.
That time I did not live long. We understood that Atlantis was coming
to an end, that it was the end of an age. The change was inevitable, sad,
and yet we were ready to face the future with great courage. Many of us
felt detached. Though our lives were about to end, spiritually speaking
we were ready to pack up and move on.
In all the past lives I recall, I never found a male who had the faintest
clue as to who I was or how to love me. I just dealt with that. But times
are different from now. The freedom and choice we have now are very
different.
If I reflect on who and what I am, I feel I can function and integrate
myself into human society to an amazing degree. I can also control my
body to a greater extent than other people can control their bodies. Yet
my body is like a glove I am wearing. The brain that comes with it I can
enhance in certain ways. In other ways, the impulses of the nervous
system and the thought processes are not always useful to me. With an
effort, I can ignore them and find other ways to perceive and feel.
I am here in almost perfect disguise. My social skills are greater than
what most people possess. I respond well to situations, to individuals,
and groups. And I make a point of connecting to people who are my
opposite—they are fiery, powerful, and driven by purpose. In this way,
I find balance and I learn from our differences.
I can get inside absolutely anyone’s mind so I can relate to
anyone. But that means I have to also conceal what I sense. There are
things about many people that even they cannot deal with.
 Someone said I am like a whirlwind of social interaction and personal
engagement. That is true. But the more I focus outward on society, the
more I have to sacrifice the otherworldly part of myself.
I often feel like an observer of human reality. I am in the middle of
social activities, yet I am removed. There are ways in which I am human
and there are ways in which I am not.
The only real reason I would ask why I am here is because that is what
other people do. For me, I am content to just be here and experience as
much as I can. There is so much lacking in the world at this time. It
seems there is not a reason but rather a force that is present which seeks
to express itself through me. This force is not external, out in the world
but something inside of me.
A friend wrote this poem for me. Those who know me well say it
accurately describes who I am.

I am water
I am what I was before
I have only changed the outer form

I am water
I am more now than heartbeat or breath
My secret dreams, my innermost needs?
I am raging and daring and craving—
The essence of love that has no end
My secret name is desire set aflame:
I ask you,
Where does the sun burn so bright
As when its passion unites with ice?
The haunted soul with its abandoned love
Frozen and cold?
I go where others can not
I am the sparks that arc illuminating
The darkest chambers of the heart
My songs are citrine, violet, vermillion, and lilac
By what authority do I claim what is lost?
 Have you never seen me dancing naked?
Dazzling his rays ravish me
In the curves and crests
Golden his caress finds me, binds me
In a billion waves
His ecstasy sets me free

I am water
I am what I shall be
I am the sea
With its endless dream
Of being one and of being free

Introduction

This is Ronda growing up. Her past life in Atlantis I have written about
in A Mermaid’s Story.
A Mermaid’s Story is in my first book, Undines, Lessons from the
Realm of Water Spirits. See Amazon.com or North Atlantic Books, July
publication 2010.

Growing Up Mermaid
The first thing I remember as a child was the fairies. They were very
playful so I played together with them all the time. They would come
into my room and be in different places like on the dresser. Or they
would fly around the room and then I would leave my body and fly
around with them. Numerous times I’d be on my ceiling looking down
at my body on the bed and a voice like a guide would tell me over and
over, “Get back in your body right now.”
 Sometimes there were just balls of light in different sizes moving
around the room. There were angels, guides, and various spirits. I saw
creatures the size of my wrist that reminded me of elves. But those were
very fast and it was hard to keep them in focus. This was when I was
around age two.
When I was still very little, I taught myself how to swim. I swam like a
mermaid, not kicking but moving my feet as one. I would look down at
my feet and feel awful. I wanted my legs to change back into mermaid
form.
I spent a great deal of time trying to be a mermaid. And when I went
to bed at night, I slept on my stomach. I would move my feet like a
mermaid swimming under water. It was soothing for me. It helped me
fall asleep.
It was not like it is now. I had seen no mermaid movies. I had not
read any books about mermaids. No one had told me about them. But I
had three tiny mermaid dolls. These I played with all of the time.
My step-dad had built a concrete pool since he was in concrete
business. I often spent ten hours a day in the pool. It had a high wooden
fence that went around it. On weekends, I would sneak out at night and
sit in the pool. Water was my friend. It was like a mother who hugged
me when I entered it.
When I was seven years old, I used to get angry at my parents because
I could not convince them that mermaids were real. Adults thought that
fairy tales were always fiction. How do you explain the nature of reality
to people whose eyes are blind and who do not know how to
communicate mind to mind?
Small wonder then that I spent hours focused on trying with all my
will to become a mermaid. I would go to bed at night and try to will
myself to become a mermaid. I wanted to live under water again.
There were times when I would go to the lake and get in the water and
ask the mermaids to take me back. I did not want to be a human being
any more. My efforts failed.
I remember being in love with the moon. It fascinated me. I would
look for it every night. Sometimes I would lay in the yard on a blanket
and gaze at the moon. I wanted to be with the moon because I felt so
connected. There was such intensity like the moon was a magnet just
drawing me toward it.
My bedroom was beautiful. I chose to do it all in lavender and then
had one wall done in pastel rainbows. I remember being in a restaurant
and a lady come up to me and said, “What a beautiful aura you
have.” She said I was surrounded by violet and lavender colors.
I always had an aquarium in my room. And when a fish died I had this
elaborate burial service for it. I would place one of my favorite
possessions with it in the ground.
The woods in my back yard went on for many miles. My parents let
me play in the part near my house but I often wandered farther
off. Sometimes my sister went with me or neighbor friends but usually I
was alone.
I also spent a huge amount of time in the forest playing in the
creeks. We did not live near an ocean so I played in the creeks and
lakes. I took hurt birds in and brought turtles home.
I remember I could even feel my vibrations rise being surrounded by
all the animals, and trees, and water. It was also in these woods that I
saw for the first time a transparent figure from the other side. The creeks
would play a beautiful music. Being surrounded in the woods with the
nature was my sanctuary. I also spent hours searching through rocks and
stones. I would look for ones that resembled crystals
When I was six years old, I began telling my grandparents when a
storm was coming. They did not know what to make of me. This was
the Bible belt. Kids were not supposed to know these things.
I went to church with my parents. Right from the beginning, I did not
agree with the church. I knew god was not how they explained and I
knew that love was unconditional. The god the church spoke of was very
judgmental. Life was about love for me even then.
I knew god would not have all these rules you must follow. You must
do this and be this person in order to have my love and go to heaven. So
many thought of god as a person. But for me it was always swirling
light, energy, and a pure, higher power. I was seven years old then.
That year I remember speaking to was my real dad. He appeared near
my bed. This was the first time I spoke with a deceased human being.
 About the same time I found I had difficulty being in crowds of
people. Everyone’s thoughts and feelings would come inside of me. It
was like being bombarded with raw emotions. It was more than I could
handle.
Just meeting someone new and I would get flashes of memories and
feel the other’s pain and joy. Sometimes the person’s entire life would
flash before my eyes like I was viewing a film in front of me. Or I
would see the important events, relationships with others, and feel the
emotions occurring.
I could sense what others were thinking. I knew I could communicate
with them through thoughts. But I was amazed they did not understand
the message I sent. They could not hear what I was saying to them in
my mind.
I did not like school. It was then I began to realize how cruel humans
could be. I remember in high school I would get A's in classes like
psychology but do awful in history because I am not good with time. I
had a problem with dates and timelines. I lived in my imagination most
of the time when I should have been studying. When I applied myself, I
would get A's but most subjects I felt were a waste of time.
As for boyfriends, I was slow at that sort of thing. I loved boys and
girls equally, because I loved everyone. I did not understand why it was
expected that I should love one man.
I could justify having a relationship with a man as a way to heal him
and consume him with love. I knew how to become whatever the he
needed or desired. I was able to connect with men in ways that others
could not. Then I would move on. But the men would obsess on me and
try to possess me.
Society speaks of how strong men are and maybe they are
physically. But mentally I find men are weaker. I still to this day do not
understand the whole love and sex thing. For me, the two are
separate. No wonder humans get so confused in relationships.
I have a mermaid around me who helps me. She is very
powerful. She says I must strengthen my mermaid ties so that I can help
the human race. She says part of my task is to intertwine our two
worlds.
 Before acquiring a human soul, I once was a close companion of a
queen of undines named Isaphil. I sang at night a song uniting the light
of the earth and the moon. Because of my ties to the moon, because of
my inner serenity, I have been given the ability to see things that shall
be. I see what is missing from the world and the ways that harmony can
be restored.
I remember Atlantis. I used to dream about it for years. They were so
much more advanced than we are now in technology and spirituality. I
remember sitting around a round table with two other women. We are
able to read each others’ minds so we could communicate without using
words and we were able to blend our auras together and share energy
directly.
It was during the time of Atlantis that my mermaid soul was pulled out
of that realm and placed in the body of a woman against my will. A
great Atlantean mage lusted after my beauty and bound me to incarnate
as a human being.
This action was a spiritual outrage for which the Atlantean suffered
terribly. I was a pawn in their game. They did not realize that the
survival of their civilization was part of the stakes being played. Beauty
can blind the mind or heal the conscience. Unlike so many noble souls
who appeared in earlier ages of their world, in the end, they chose not to
be healed.
I remember so many things and experiences when I was in
Atlantis. These memories are as clear as if they happened yesterday. I
healed. In human form, I swam beneath the sea. I flew in small
airships. We used crystals in so many ways.
Mermaids look like the way human beings imagine them. But they
have a higher vibration. They are spirits and not solid or physical, like
you could stick your hand through them. I recall that as a mermaid, we
always did everything in groups of three.
I have met the other two in my group of three. Like me, they have
crossed over. Unlike me, they have come out of curiosity or out of love
for a human being. But they are not compelled as am I to discover my
purpose for being alive.
 Recently, I was in the bath meditating. I spend hours every day
completely submerged in the bath with only my nose and mouth above
the water. I do this because here is where I am best able to send healing
energy to others.
I saw a mermaid above me. She was very glittery or shiny. In old
days, if we saw a ship we knew we were not allowed to go to near it. We
were not supposed to be seen by the people on ships.
I joined two other mermaids as we were swimming, singing and
holding hands united in a circle at one point. There was a joyful or giddy
feeling I had with this. It was like young school girls at play. I could
hear notes of music. For me, the sea is life and life is the sea.
When I am in water, it is as if my soul merges with the water and I
become truly one with it. Within water I feel loved unconditional,
revitalized, refreshed, renewed, happy, pure, cleansed, and euphoric.
I never lived near water until my early 20's and that was when I began
to feel really alive. It made me so happy. I feed off of the magnetism
the water brings me. If I am sick or in pain, I get in the water because it
comforts me. Sometimes you hear people say they are married to
God. I sometimes feel I am married to the ocean.
How do I explain to people that there is another part of myself that
vibrates as a mermaid? It is an energy that human beings never
experience.
I can feel love all around me and in every cell of my body. People
seem to have a hard time with love. It is really so much more than a
thought or an emotion. They search and search for it when really it is
within and around them in every moment. They need to learn to put it
within every thought. Yet that would only be a beginning.
For mermaids, the oceans of the earth, the vibration within water, is
itself pure love. This love encompasses the planet. It is strange beyond
words that human beings with all their wise men and great teachers
know nothing about this.
I speak easily with those who have died. This is perhaps because I
myself am from the Other Side.
I had a friend in my class. At age twenty-five he died in car accident.
A few years later I could feel his energy around me. For two years I saw
him in dreams, near my bed, or I would him hear him call my name in
the early morning.
One time, in no more than a few seconds, he showed me his car wreck,
the hospital where he died, how his mom felt, how he felt, friends felt--I
saw it all. I even heard the doctors talking to his mom and him standing
there watching invisible to their eyes. He also showed me the operating
room and what the doctors were saying.
There is this place I go to at night on the astral plane which is very
pure and blissful and all white. We do not have any form when we are
there. We are just pure energy, unlike anything in this world.
On the astral plane, the colors are sometimes a thousand times
brighter, but touch, taste, and smell belong to this physical world and are
not as strong. I will miss the pleasure of taste and smell when I pass
over.
Other times I run into people I know on the astral plane. We turn into
balls of energy and join together. The bliss is so much greater than
anything I experience in this world.
Often when people die and they accept their death they are met by a
guide. The guide explains some things to them and then they go to a
holding area. It is like a beautiful park but much prettier and brighter.
It is very easy for me to visit the park. I sometimes go see people I
know who are there. I have helped some get to that park. It is very
similar to the physical world so that people can adjust slowly. They are
not ready to become pure energy. They need to be in an astral body
similar to their physical body in order to learn to perceive.
Being dead is a lot like being awake in a dream and being able to
change what you see according to what you imagine. Death is different
for each individual. It helps to be able to let go of this world and move
on. What someone has been denied in this life they will often imagine
having when they are dead. They will play with it and experience it in
every way until they get bored and are ready to move on.
For me, I am so much more awake and alive on the astral plane than in
this world. People are half dead in this world; there is so much energy
and light moving around them that they do not sense or feel in any way.
 When others go to sleep at night and dream, I fall asleep but
immediately wake up on the astral plane. I do not just have lucid dreams
continuously. I am in actual contact with guides and deceased. Or when
I heal I visit living people in my astral form hovering over them as I give
them energy.
When I meditate, I can turn into any form. But when I come back and
start thinking I am stuck with this human brain. I know how to get rid of
the brain consciousness by just stopping my thought processes. Then it
is like I am in water and nothing else exists. Ten minutes is like six
months.
But when I come out of meditating, I am again stuck with human
consciousness. But I am making little advances. I allow my brain to
feel like it is full of water and then there is no difference between being
human and being a mermaid. My body takes on a water vibration. Then
I think as both human and mermaid at the same time.
For years I never understood why TV and radio channels would flip or
why electrical toys would turn off and on around me. Sometimes it is
just my nervous energy as I try to go to sleep or else something surprises
me suddenly and the car computer goes dead. I feel at times like I am a
walking electrical outlet. The sensations of electricity surge through my
body.
When I have a sudden insight, I get goose bumps all over. And I feel
like I am freezing cold, even when it is ninety degrees in the room.
I can point my finger at a candle flame and make it move in different
directions or grow brighter or dimmer. I never knew until quite recently
that other human beings could not do the same.
Almost everything I have just written I have never shared before with
any other human. At best, I have been tolerated. My sister keeps a
scrap book of my predictions about events such as earthquakes and
disasters that have accurately predicted.
I walked up to a stranger at an airport one time and give her details
about how her son died. It was as if I saw the entire series of events
unfold before my eyes. I helped with the police investigation that was
still going on.
 When I heal others, I can sometimes cure terminally ill patients. Part
of my problem as an empath and healer is that I briefly take on others’
symptoms. I end up in the hospital for a night with failed kidneys. But
in the morning I am completely normal and the other person is suddenly
healed.
If you speak to me of someone, I can probably tell you about this
individual’s health; I may see other people this person knows; and if
someone has recently died close to this person I can easily speak to the
departed and relay messages.
There are others like me on earth. We have entered the world to share
love with the human race. For me, it has been a terrible sacrifice. For
others whose connection to mankind has been sweetened with love, the
transition has been gentle. They belong equally to two worlds and live
in peace.
As I have said, the human race is cruel. But we are all here to
learn. Unlike what happened to Atlantis, I do not believe that it is too
late for humanity.

Short Autobiography

(from the introduction to the story, Mermaid Assassin. See Mermaid

Tales)

I enjoy the rhythm of the waves and the drops of spray splashing my
face as the hull surges into the trough and breaks through the next
wave’s crest. The ocean surrounds me. The wind gusts and then shifts
and I trim the sail in response. The wind and I are like two lovers who
blend in harmony as we dance.
Sailing out here by myself on the ocean there are no conflicts--on the
open ocean nothing changes. The days and months and decades—the
ocean is always the same.
 But the truth is that I do not think of my past as past. It is like I am
standing still. I am not going forward. I am now. There is no “I was” or
“I will be,” only “I am here now.”
And that is how I felt long ago when I fled Atlantis. My story has
conflict and resolution. It has plot and movement. But for me, time, like
the ocean, does not move forward. The flow of events in the outer world
does not change who I am inside.
I like to sleep by the beach to be close to water. It washes away
everything bad and all tension leaves me so I feel only peace. Being
under the full moon is like putting a battery charger into a wall socket--I
feel recharged.
These things are not surprising. As a child, I loved the water. I would
stay in the bath for six hours and sometimes more. I would sometimes
fall asleep with my mouth and nose just above the surface.
On the one hand, I hate thinking about myself as being different from
other people. I would like to think that at most I am maybe a strange kid.
Maybe some of the things I do are a little odd. I am a bit lonely, boring,
and misunderstood. I would like to think there is nothing more to it.
But on the other hand? I do not know if I am human. I do not like
thinking about myself as one because the things I do seem so natural—
things others cannot understand or accept. For example, why would
anyone want to hurt someone else? And why do people not accept the
good and the bad in their lovers? Isn’t love supposed to be without
conditions? Isn’t always loving and supporting the other person a normal
thing to do?
There are other things. I am not talking about the fact that I like to sit
in the dark by myself and that I can see in the dark. It has more to do
with my empathy.
When someone around me is experiencing an intense, heavy emotion,
I spontaneously feel the other’s sadness. I will wear myself out crying
and then fall asleep. If the emotions are too strong or coming from too
many people at once I may even pass out.
I laugh at myself as I say this, but I am like a reverse vampire. I do not
take others’ energy to restore myself. Rather, I take their aches and pain
into myself and heal the other person in the process. I do this
spontaneously. I have no control over it.
But there is more. I enter others’ memories and then I live those
memories as if they are my own. I am back in time inside the other
person’s body.
I call this “watching a movie” except I am like an actor on a stage
playing the part of the other person. A man tells me he is depressed
because his wife has left him. Instantly, I am inside his mind watching
what actually happened. She says to him, “You are worthless.” I hear her
words. I see her face. I feel her slap me. I recall what happened with
equal or better clarity that the person’s own recollection.
Although this entering the other’s memory can take place in a moment,
for me the experience can go on for hours. I cannot make it stop.
The empathy began when I was seven years old. At that time I was
raised by my grandparents. My mother was rarely around. She still does
not like me. Her words, “I wish you were never born. Having you has
ruined my life.”
When my grandfather died, I went to the funeral and could feel what
everyone around me was feeling. Because I was upset that he died, he
came to me that night in a dream to calm me down. He showed me
where he was. It was the prettiest place on earth—so peaceful and
happy. He told me I was the most open and receptive of all the family
members.
He visits me in dreams and warms me about danger and lectures me
about all sorts of things. We also argue. My body is asleep but my mind
is awake. When we have been arguing all night I will wake up in the
morning and feel like I have not slept at all.
He tells me things such as that a certain person is going to hurt me. He
even studies some of my friends to see if each has a good heart. For me,
my grandfather is far more alive now than he was when he was still
living. But I never know in advance when he is going to talk to me. He
does not come when I try to contact him.
One time he told me to call 911 because my grandma, who was still
alive, had just had a heart attack. I called 911 and they broke down the
door to her apartment and found her lying on the floor. She had had a
heart attack just as he had said.
It is not just my grandfather I talk to. I talk to other departed people
also. With some the communication is mind to mind without words or
thoughts. With others, I talk to them exactly the same as I talk to living
people.
Some seem trapped here close to our world and unable to move on like
the ghost who is attached to the used dresser I moved into my room. The
ghost looks through all of my things and comments on my clothes. He
will not tell me anything about himself. Because of his annoying
comments, I can no longer change clothes in that room.
I do not easily trust people because of all the bad experiences I have
had with them. Men have betrayed me because they are selfish, but what
they want has always been obvious. Women are another matter. They
have been mean and cruel for no reason whatsoever. But I still love them
and even when my friends are treacherous and betray me, I still remain
friends with them.
When I meet new people I can tell the first moment I see them, at their
first word, if they are dangerous. When one of my friends introduced me
to another girl, I told my friend later that this woman would hurt her. I
wish I had been wrong. But it turned out the other woman spread nasty
rumors about my friend. My friends think I am judgmental when I warn
them in this way. But I am never wrong about these things.

The Human Experience

My first memory was of being at the Llikai Hotel in Waikiki. I was
wearing a white dress with red flowers, white shoes, and crazy lacy
socks. The hotel was on the beach. I looked at the water and thought,
“Oh, that is water.” I sensed it was full of life and magic. I was about
three years old. It is funny how as a child I was unable to express what I
felt then, but now I have the memory.
 It was not that I felt I belonged in it. I knew the ocean was a part of
me. And I felt how beautiful it was. I did not have to look. I could feel
the beauty of the sea inside of me.
As a kid, I felt I always had to be near and in water. But now it is
always around me. As I grew up, there were times when I needed to get
away from my family, out of society, and being in the water was the
only peaceful place.
Whenever I would get upset about something and could not get near
the ocean, I would fill up the tub and get in and just soak until I was
wrinkled. I sometimes fell asleep in the tub. There is no way of saying
how long I was there. Sometimes just my nose and mouth were above
the water.
Now, wherever I am I can hear the ocean. I hear different ocean
sounds depending on my mood. Sometimes there are rolling waves
coming in and other times the water sounds like a stream with water
bubbling. In this moment there is a calm even flow, no wind, no current
but an ebb and flow that feels really nice.
Even so, I need to be near water. I do not need to get into it, just be
near it. I do not think a stream or river would quite do it for me. They
are not deep enough. They do not have the depth that my spirit needs. I
draw energy from water to balance myself. It is an inner connection. I
think I would start to feel a kind of nervous tension like drinking too
much coffee if I lived near only a stream or a river.
Once a Feng Shui person told me that I have too much water around
me. He said, You have so much water you should sleep in a metal
bed. And he said I should change the kind of colors I wear because I am
too much water; my output consists of too much emotion. But I like
blue. I am still going to wear blue. He was treating me as if I needed the
kind of balance he needs. He did not have a clue about what I need for
balance and harmony. The Feng Shui master told me not to wear black
or blue as those colors represent the ocean and my watery
disposition. He said I needed metal to counter my overly emotional
state.
I remember dreaming as a child that fairies would come and I would
fly with them. These dreams would stay with me during the day after I
woke up. In the dreams, it was not like flying in the air. It was more
like moving through water, but the water was thicker like a gel. I recall
the light orbs and the small figures flitting around.
In the gel, there is no bottom. There is no top. There is just this gel. It
is not wet and it is not dry. And you just make your way though that and
you can do whatever you want. And everything is beautiful.
The colors are so much brighter than anything we see here. And
everything has energy. Everything has an aura. This table has that and
the trees. The air itself has an aura. I felt the heartbeat of the trees and
wondered why they beat so slowly. In everything, there is a rhythm of
life pulsing.
I do not know if what I saw were fairies. They were little, sometimes
just traces of light. They flew along next to me. I really like thinking
they were fairies.
But these days I am too busy to pay attention to them. But I keep
getting messages that I should pay attention because they have things to
tell me.
As a child, I began keeping rocks, crystals, and pieces of glass. These
things are not valuable to other people. But these were my toys. These
are things I treasure—like you can see a whole different world in a piece
of broken glass. I like these shiny things and also jewelry.
When I was a child and we went camping others used to use
flashlights at night walking through the woods, but I did not always use
one. I could usually see fine in the dark. When we walked on the rocks
on the Big Island at night I used to walk barefoot and these are sharp,
volcanic rocks. We would camp by the shore on the rocks by the sea. I
was the only one who would go with my father and he would wear
sandals and I would go on the rock in bare feet in the dark and I would
find my way. And sometimes I could not see but even so I could tell
when it was safe to take a step.
The most magical time was at a place called Maku'u on Hawai'i. That
is the place where I learned from my dad how to trust the moon, I guess,
or my inner guidance. All this stuff was not put into words so it is hard
to describe the process of learning. Maku'u is where I learned that I was
more clumsy wearing slippers as I maneuvered on the sharp and
sometimes slippery rocks. Also, a flashlight was more of a hindrance
than a help in the darkness as we had to scale rocks and brace ourselves
for waves that rolled in.
There is where I learned that I did not always have to see in order to
move through the dark. I still have night vision. When I work with the
computer, I do not need light and I dim it down as far as it will go. This
is because I sense light all around me. Actually I like to sit in the dark in
bed with all the lights out.
My father was very intuitive. He taught me a lot as a child, but he was
very quiet in his knowledge. He was constantly spending time by the
ocean whether he went in or not. He taught me how to dive. We would
go free diving. But we did not really get along at that time. I wish we
had more moments by the ocean. In hindsight, I realize that I did not
pay attention well enough to the quiet lessons being conveyed.
He does herbal healing. He goes to the forest to gather herbs. He does
not know the names of the plants, but he can get rid of rashes, stop
bleeding, and take care of swelling. He will go to the forest and pray and
he receives a message that it is okay to enter. He will draw plants for me
and tell me what they are good for. You could say he is a natural born
shaman.
Occasionally as a child I had out-of-body experiences. For example, I
would meet my grandmother who had died. When she was alive, we
always had a good time together. She taught me a lot. My grandmother
and I would meet in our dreams. She was still alive at the time.
Then and now she comes and gives me advice. She helped me through
my divorce. We even have our little arguments.
But I do not hear her speaking to me with her voice. I hear here with
my mind. Or I will see a part of her like her hands and I will know what
she means. Sometimes she communicates to me through a smell that
carries a message. She can be quite bossy.
At certain times of the year she will come and tell me that I have to
make a certain food, because she misses that. But she is not unhappy
where she is. She is growing in her own way.
And I cook like her. My mother says I have her gift because I can put
together a big dinner and it is just me cooking.
 The crazy thing about this is that I do not believe in death. It is just
leaving the body and moving on to another place. We do not die. We
just use these bodies as vessels for our human experience.
People are afraid of the unknown. That is why they fear death. At the
same time I think for me there is apprehension about the unknown, but I
also know that it will be okay. It is just another experience. It is good to
acknowledge the fear. But if you sit in the fear then you cheat your self
of the experience.
I live half-way in this world that I am describing now and half-way in
the world that exists around us which I have to function in for my
business. I have aches from being a part of two worlds because I am
sometimes torn between them. So I am trying to find that balance.
There are some things I do which I am surprised that others cannot do.
For example, if you flip a coin, put it on your wrist, and look at or if you
are dealt a hand of cards and look at them, I often know what you
know. There are times when I try to be fair and do not look. But if I try
too hard to look, that blocks my vision. I see the coin or the cards
through your eyes. But it would never occur to me to use this ability as
a way of gaining an advantage over someone else.
Basically, for me everything is energy. I sense the world that
way. The energy is in the waves and the waves create a “vapor.” The
vapor is like when you stand in the rain and it is not quite raining--a light
drizzle. It is soothing and that is what I want to receive—gentle, tender
energy flowing. But when I share energy it turns into light.
I remember one time when I was young that I got angry at someone. I
flicked my wrist and the person fell down. It could have been a
coincidence, but I realized immediately that injuring someone would not
make me feel good. So I learned to send this other kind of energy to
others.
Still, there are a few people who get dizzy just being around me or
talking to me. Their sense of balance is thrown off. Like
the Feng Shui person, they are not used to people who have strong water
in their auras. In water, gravity and up or down are not so important.
Sharing energy is like breathing for me. It is spontaneous. I may share
energy with just about anybody. I can look across the street and I will
think, Oh, that person needs energy and I will send it and it ends up as a
color. It comes out as like both a wave of energy and as light. I do
know that the energy, if accepted and used, can increase whatever it is
that person requires in that moment.
If you put me in the ER at a hospital I would zap everybody. And the
energy would change into a different color for each person. The color is
the energy that resonates for that particular individual.
And sometimes if I realize someone is low on energy, I will give a
particular color. But usually it is a subconscious thing and afterwards I
look and see what color was sent.
Yellow for example means the person is striving for higher
consciousness. Green relates to healing. Blue is communication.
Violet is healing and the need for tranquility. I remember now where I
got the color information from. I went to a class that explained the
importance of color and what different colors represent. The teachings
resonated with me, however, I am limited in the way I use colors.
The color depends on the individual. And sometimes you can tell
when they are not accepting the energy because it turns muddy. But that
is okay. Other times, there is no color, just the vapor that dissipates.
I make a point of not taking on someone else’s symptoms. That is not
my job. I can wish others well and want to help them, but I am not
going to say I healed them. I am just a conduit. I am just sending
energy. I take nothing from them. I send them peace and blessing, but I
walk away with my own peace and blessings.
I do not look for sickness. I look for energy or a frequency. But I do
not monitor others. What people need they draw. If I sense someone’s
need, then it is for me to send the energy to them because conscious or
not on some level they are asking for it.
When I give, there is a trust that the energy will operate in the right
way and the other person can accept it or not and do with it what they
want. The conscious mind does not need to be so active. The energy is
beautiful and it balances and nurtures just through contact with it.
I do not get worn out from giving energy. I like to think that I will
never run dry. There are no limits placed on energy, but I have a busy
life. I do not always have energy to give.
 There is a problem though in that people like me are too giving.
Things come from us and through us but we forget about ourselves. We
have no inclination to acquire money. So often we only have enough to
get by.
I have this need to just embrace everybody. I can give to anyone and
everyone. I am not trying to be invasive or get into others’ space, but I
cannot help it. I have to be careful because it is not always the effect that
I want. My aura can take up too much space. It is not a conscious thing,
but I recognize it from time to time when I notice a person's energy
changes after a bit of time.
There are times when I shut down my energy flow. I need my space
and I need to keep myself centered when I am amid a group a people or I
will feel totally drained. This is what happens at the café in Ala Moana
Shopping Center. The seating is always so crowded. If I am with my
mom or someone we sit down and all of a sudden there is no one around
us. I do not pay attention, but all of a sudden they are gone. They just
disappear, but then the children come right up and stare at me.
And sometimes unexpectedly a child will take a liking to me. This is
rare but when they happen it feels like there is something familiar
between us, but it is not from this life time.
I am aware that there is sometimes a static charge in my aura that is
not right, but I do not have time to change it. And I do not want to
adversely influence others. So if I am eating, I will create a bubble
around myself. I just want to enjoy the moment. I am not going to
waste my energy and interact subconsciously with everyone around
me. I want to eat in peace.
When I say “bubble,“ I mean a protective energy. It is a “no you may
not enter.” In doing this, I am asserting a universal law regarding the
right of self-protection.
Creating a bubble is an imaginative action. You have to both think it
and feel it for it to work. I am still there and maybe someone is
following me. But he will lose his desire to do so because I just cut off
my energy and it is no longer available to him.
 And sometimes I just say, “I am invisible.” I do not even have to think
or do anything for it to work. Because I do not want to have to deal with
other people. I just move through a crowd without anyone noticing me.
Another thing I do is that sometimes I can slow time. For example,
my niece was learning to walk and she was falling. I could not get to her
so I made time slow down so I could catch her before she fell. And
there are times when I consciously ask for time to wait for me to catch
up. When I do catch up, I strive to move slowly through time, as I feel
some of my energies contributed to the speed up in the first place.
I do that even with myself if I am about to fall down. I do it also when
I am driving. You take hold of time so you can move slowly through
time. I do not know how to stop time, but I can sometimes slow it. I can
not tell you how to do it.
Time is bendable. Time is speeding up on everyone because there is
so much focus on wanting the next thing when actually we are missing
out on the time we could have.
If we can just hold time and space we could experience so much in a
short amount of time instead of the way we are now running from one
thing to the next. But I too struggle with this. It is easy to get caught up
in the rapid pace of daily life. I can slow time in certain instances, but
living with the right rhythm and tempo is a real challenge.
Time becomes timeless when you move with the energy flow as you
feel it. What makes us old is that we forget how to just be and lose our
connection to the timeless dimension. But we are always free. We just
need to remind ourselves to focus on how we perceive instead of getting
caught up in the drama, sensationalism, and desire to feel important.
Schedules are something I know I have to do with my conscious
mind. But I can be in my sense of timelessness and still do the things
that I have to do. I am in activities of a schedule, but I remain in a
timeless space. At times I run on autopilot doing things by rote when I
am really elsewhere in my awareness because that is something I may
need.
I think we forget with men and women that it is the process that makes
us. The end result is what we want to attain and that is great, but the
process is what we grow from. So we never celebrate ourselves enough
in the experience rather than always focusing on the goal.
When I think about relationships, my feelings are that men are like
children and women are selfish. I wish women would wake up and find
their own personal power and realize they do not need to be mean. And
men are always striving because they need to prove themselves. Do they
need coddling? Yes. But they do not need all that stuff they strive for.
I do not need a man to add something to my life. In a relationship, I
just come as I am. I do not necessarily feel a need to be
understood. Just accepted.
But I enjoy relationships. I realize a man can never give me the kind
of empathy I can extend to him. It is kind of like what Hermione said of
Ron in Harry Potter—“You have the sensitivity of a teaspoon.” That is
how I see men. I am not saying that men do not have a sensitive side to
them. They do. But I do not know if men have the capacity to relate to
the depth of a woman’s feelings. I have not seen that.
And there is the whole concept of men feeling they need to be
needed. Sometimes when they feel they have no plays or leverage on
the woman they say something mean. But I recognize that as their own
limitation and I say peace and blessings.
But I do go out of my way to acknowledge anything a man tries to
give me, because that is what he is capable of giving. I do the same in
my business. I will ask for referrals from a certain group of people. I
will ask for help when I do not need it. It is playing that woman role. It
makes other people feel comfortable. It is easier for them to connect to
you.
I show appreciation and gratitude for the little things, for whatever the
other person is giving. But what is really going on is an exchange of
energy. That is what is valuable. This is often expressed through a
smile, a hug, or a touch. You can not do it with words, well, not always.
I have had the experience of feeling really connected to a man. So
when it suddenly ends there is a feeling of loss. But that is
temporary. For me, it is like: “Oh, what is next?” because I look at it
like a progression in my learning. The relationship continues but with a
different person.
 For me, it is about learning. You can love everybody, but that does
not mean you have to be attached to them. The learning begins and
ends. It is not part of this form but of the soul and the spirit.
The reason I am here is to learn, observe, and be a part of everything.
Learning has to do with nature, human nature, and the spirit.
I think most people do not recognize their aliveness, the gift of life that
they have now. The gift of life is the opportunities that are limitless to
us--we can be what we want to be and enjoy experiences in life.
I plan things, but I have to sometimes change my schedule. If energy is
not flowing the way I am planning to go I sense it. I may not even need
to make a call to cancel an appointment. Things will just happen for me
so that it works out for me and for the other person so that I have the
space to do something I am drawn to doing, and vice versa.
People should follow their true purpose. We all need money but why
do people want a certain amount of money? Why does that have to be
first and foremost? Why can’t we feel our spirits and realize why we are
really here?
I feel we are here to live life’s experiences in harmony and in love.
Why can we not recognize our connections to each other whether it be to
humans or other light beings? I am so frustrated about this. Why can
we not accept everything as it is and just be harmonious? The only way
we will truly prosper is if all our relationships are harmonious.
I have to be right with myself so I can keep doing what I do. That is
what I want to bring to consciousness—being right within
ourselves. The spirit is to the soul what the heart is to the body. Why
can we not put that together? It is so simple.
If someone looked at my life it might appear very simple. I strive to
be free of confusion and worry.
I sometimes tell others that I am a mermaid having a human
experience. But that is not quite right. I feel I am here now and life is
what it is and who knows where I am going to end up. But I am going to
live my life and enjoy what comes my way. And then I will just move
on to something else.
I do not feel my home is somewhere else. The same with
heaven. Heaven is what you create like home is what you create. I do
not feel heaven is elsewhere. I feel I am in heaven right now. Heaven is
something you create for yourself with your heart and your mind.
All the same, I am quite secretive, but I do not mean to be and I think
it is funny that others think I am. If I am asked a question I will answer
the question. I have nothing to hide from anybody. We are all
messengers. For me, what I know and remember is mine. I share what
comes through me at the time, but the flow and exchange must be
natural and free-flowing.
All my life people say I am mysterious. I walk in a quiet knowing. I
do not need to broadcast where I am at, what I am thinking, and what I
am feeling. If I come across evasive or illusive, so be it.
But I am not as isolated as someone might think. I can sense others
like myself. It would be nice to meet them. I know they are there and on
some level we are always connected. That is a spiritual community in
my mind.
It is spiritual in that there is no building I have to go to as if it is
Sunday and I have to go to church. The love we feel is everywhere in
every moment and it flows sometimes with a strong current and
sometimes it is a calm sea. I trust that we all have that sense of inner
peace within. I pray that we find it and use it sooner than later.

A Fifth Mermaid Woman

I have just finished reading your book Undines and it is the most
profound, wonderful book I have ever read. When I read your book, I
didn't just read the words. I felt it the way I feel music. It is a physical
energy that goes up and down in my body. I have been doing that with
music forever but this is the first book that I have read where the energy
manifests that way.
My earliest memories of mermaids were around age two at the lake.
My Aunt described how beautiful mermaids are “with long hair and that
they loved to sing.”
 Growing up I would spend all my free time hanging out in my
backyard lake. Swimming in it with my grandma, bringing home little
black angelfish for pets, exploring the rocks, the smells, exploring the
woods collecting pheasant feathers and rabbits and seeing the occasional
red fox. But my favorite was going to the ocean. I couldn't get enough of
the ocean smells.
I loved the beach. I remember seeing all these soft pastel colors of
blues and lilacs all around me. My mom took me out into the chilly
Atlantic. I was laughing I loved the feel of bouncing on the waves and
the way the sand glittered with gold. My childhood by the ocean was so
ethereal it could have lasted forever. Then we moved.
We were in a small rental and also stayed in motels. The best was
staying in a tiny rental next to the water. One Saturday morning I walked
on the beach and there was a pod of at least six killer whales that swam
right on the waves in front of me as I was standing on the sand. People
were rushing to get back on the sand. That was one of the most amazing
things I've ever had witness.
I always would draw and talk about mermaids. Every book that had any
pictures of them would attract me. My search for mermaids just got
stronger. I remember standing in the shower counting to 12 flapping my
feet. “Now on the count of 12 open your eyes and you will have a tail.”
But nothing happened. I tried for years doing that as a kid. I first started
to have dreams of mermaids when I was about 13. The dreams were so
vivid it was amazing.
My dreams of mermaids are beautiful beyond words. I swim with them
in all different kinds of water. In one dream, there was the cutest mer
child. She had blonde curly hair. She smiled at me and swam past me. In
another dream I was in a deep pool and swam with an enormous dark
seahorse.
In my dreams I can breathe in the water and see clearly. And there are
sometimes giant tidal waves that are overpowering. I go under the water
and let them pass over me. Sometimes I'm a mermaid just being one
with the water. Other times mermaids join me.
Two years ago I had a little girl visit me. She was quiet with big soft
dewy eyes and shiny skin. She was standing in front of my TV and I told
her she was a ghost. I told her its ok. Go into the light and you will be
safe. Angels will guide you and she went.
I saw that she was kidnapped by a sex offender and about a day later
they found her body and caught the guy. I hate those kinds of visions.
When ghosts appear to me, I tell them to go in the light. Otherwise I
chase them away. I have a hard enough time with living people and so I
am not going to let dead people give me a hard time.
My grandfather was very confused when he died, but he is getting
better. He had Alzheimer's but now when he visits he is back to his
happy self.
I have great love and empathy for children and some teens. I can feel
when they are hurting so I will send them a bubble of pink light to burst
over them with calmness and soothing love.
I have very strong empathy but I have learned not to allow myself to be
drained from other’s needs. Now I intuitively know how to shield
myself. One thing I will do is immediately go to the nearest sink and let
cold water go over my hands. It cleans me of any vibes that I might have
picked up.
I have to shower at least twice a day to clean my aura. The water that
comes out I visualize as a satiny pink with gold shimmer and diamonds
or just pure clear. I can't sleep until I shower and if I'm stressed out
during the days I sit in the edge of my tub and put cool water on my feet.
I have to be careful reading newspapers. If there is any news of animal
abuse or environmental disasters, I will get very sick and my back and
stomach will hurt. So I have backed off from the news, except for
weather.
 Since I was young, I would put my hands on family and pets and do
my own form of reiki although I'm not a reiki master. I think my
husband married me just for his nightly scalp massage.
I send healing energy to the rivers in my state. A local corporation is
killing the rivers. They are so sick you won’t believe how bad it is. And
the water off the Florida Keys is losing oxygen as it is polluted with
Miami’s sewage.
I was bored out of my mind in high school. I ditched school and would
go to the beach. I was an A student in theater but was uninterested in
everything else. So the staff at my High School suggested I get into
cosmetology as a trade since there was no way I would graduate. I
became an aesthetician and immediately started working as a make-up
artist.
I could take a thin lipped, heavy browed woman and turn her into a full
lipped Goddess. I would give them an energy of glamour. I enjoyed
watching the look on their face when they realized how beautiful they
really were.
I can meditate in any water even a grungy hotel shower. Every water
has its own unique finger print. Marco Island in Florida is very feisty.
The energy is exciting and playful. Dolphins love chasing the jet ski
people.
The currents there love to change their temperature. And the fish have
to be very careful with all of the ospreys. When I am in Marco I feel like
just playing in the little waves. I get annoyed with the tourists so I know
the secret spots over the rock jettys. I swim through heavy seaweed and
past sharp rocks. There I can be alone with very few people.
I become very quiet and just listen to the sounds. It is seductive and has
a very wild but serene energy. The water feels thick like syrup and the
sea creatures are very loving.
I swam with some dolphins. I wanted to get inside their energy. One
little guy was an orphan and he missed his mommy. He was injured by a
boat propeller.
 Naples is my sanctuary. Every summer I go there. The water is very
soothing. I feel the vibration of unconditional love. I feel I could live and
breathe in that water. I feel home. I sing and meditate and all sorts of
fish swim around me.
When I am about to leave, I pull out a few strands of the longest part of
my hair and give it to the water so a part of me remains. When I am in
the so-called real world, I could channel certain water locations, go into
the water, and allow the water to enter me. I will physically taste and
hear and feel that water. And then the water will drift back home.
I was always an outcast growing up. I had and still have very few
friends. I did not notice boys because I was too wrapped up as a kid in
my own world.
At a certain point, however, I had a lot of dates. But they were poor
choices. I told myself that the next guy will have long blonde hair, blue
eyes, and he must be a surfer.
Shortly after, I was at a party at a neighbor’s house. Leaning against the
garage door was this long platinum blonde-haired 19 year old surfer with
cobalt blue eyes that was staring at me while talking to my friend. He
asked me who I was and I told him I live around the corner. As I was
leaving, he asked me to write my number on his hand. He insisted so I
did.
The next day I answered my phone and said hi and he got quiet. I said
what are you doing and he said, “Do you want to go to the beach with
me?" Uh ok! He came over. We went to the beach and he took off for
three hours to surf. What kind of date is that?
I asked him where he lived and he said in San Diego going to UCSD,
and that when he is in town he is at the house around the corner from
mine. He was very respectful, quiet and very intense.
At my 16th birthday he made me his girlfriend. He gave me a gold
heart necklace and roses. My dating life stopped. Guys were very
intimidated by him. He knew everyone and was an excellent surfer but
hated the idea of going pro because it would ruin surfing for him.
 He was crazier than me. He could stay out in the water for up to six
hours before coming in. He traveled everywhere to surf, Australia,
Costa Rica, North Shore, Oregon, the Wedge in Newport Beach, Black's
Beach. I didn't think it was possible that anyone could love the water as
much as me.
He would get up at 4:30 am, surf till 12:00, come in eat Doritos and a
Pepsi, go back at 1:00 and surf till 5:30 pm, go to Taco Bell relax for a
couple hours go back out at 7:30 and night surf at the HB pier till around
9 or until the lifeguards would kick him out. And he would do that every
day on his summer break. I was mesmerized. We dated long distance for
nine years. I liked the freedom. After he graduated, we married.
When I'm intimate with my husband, it is an exchange of energy, as if
we feed off each other’s energy. It's very intense. I become him and go
inside him. I can feel his soul and the way it merges with mine. It's not
fast because it is a process. I can feel his DNA, his ancestral history, and
without a word we know what we're thinking. My body will become his
flesh and it is like we melt into each other.
But sometimes I shield my mind so I can have some privacy, and I do
not like reading his mind. He has his right to his privacy.
An interesting thing about him is that if you show him a picture of
ocean waves from any part of the world he can tell you what ocean it is.
I am not the only psychic in the house.
Floating in the water is my favorite. It is quiet and I am melting into the
water. I really like the way I rock back and forth and I can sleep and just
totally leave my body and merge. It si very much like sex only dreamier
and just water, no flesh. It feels like being a floating bubble and mist at
the same time.
I don't know why I'm here. I suspect it is because I wanted to know
what it is like, and because I have a very romantic heart and I want to
connect with romantic men. I have struggled all my life on what my
purpose is here. I really do not have one. I have too many interests. I
love to touch and have kids and I love animals and nature and romance.
But that really is it. I do not have a desire to be rich or famous or be a
PTA/soccer mom.
I have several personalities when I interact with people. There is the
mom, or just a regular shopper, and I keep myself very hidden. You are
the only person that I have ever told this to. Not even my husband knows
everything about me. I feel strange and I feel like I will have my cover
blown. I can be a chameleon, but I am not being fake. I really am
sincere.
I just need to protect myself. I also have noticed that I have to be
careful with making eye contact with some people. It could be a cashier
or stranger because it hurts and strains my eyes.
Thank you for all you do. I will be grateful for you forever.

A Sixth Mermaid Woman

One of my earliest memories is being a cheese-ball-eating toddler on the

beach in 1992 in Westerly, Rhode Island. We lived about an hour,
maybe ninety minutes up I-95 from it, and I remember going there every
time my mother could take us. My whole family liked it there. It was
before tourism from Newport overflowed into Westerly, Misquamicut,
and, dare I say, Watch Hill, so the beaches were still relatively virginal
and desolate.
It was a time when a piece of garbage was a rare find on that shoreline I
reference as my hometown, but a fully intact whelk shell or sun dried
starfish was not. This slowly reversed between the time I was born and
the time I was twenty, but it’s still my favorite place on Earth. I’d flip
through my father’s copy of “McClane’s Field Guide to Saltwater Fishes
of North America” on the way, and get there and just come alive.
I could walk you out to the exact ten-foot stretch of sand where I stood,
a baby in a floppy white beach hat, learning for the first time in my life
that this was not just my favorite place to jump in the car and visit with
my parents, but it was who I was. It was me.
I remember an overcast sunset on the beach; my mother and father
were packing up the chairs and coolers to leave, and my sister didn’t
want to come out into the breaker with me. Given how carefully
sheltered I was, it’s incredible to me that I even had moments where I
could go out into the waves alone. I had an instinct to not to fall over in
the waves, to master them, and make them a part of my scope. I was
doing just that, and a voice spoke to me: “This is where you belong. You
are mine. Life will get hard, but only if you forget that you are one of
my mermaids. You are here to fight for the oceans. We need you to do
this.”
The voice was not accompanied by a physical body, but an image in
my mind of a woman speaking. She was African looking and draped in
turquoise. She had a maternal energy about her and she told me she was
the ocean. I carried the message through my entire childhood and
adolescence, but it would be almost two decades before I learned of and
put two and two together with the Yoruba figure of Yemaja. And, as
someone who had only just begun to read, I really had no way of
knowing that the oceans were in any way in trouble.
I had yet to learn of overfishing, plastic pollution, or my life’s current
fixation, acidification. I was not yet aware that my birth was almost
exactly thirteen years after the discovery of hydrothermal vents. All I
knew was that I loved the sea more than anything, and that the sea both
included and needed me in a way that did not easily relate me to other
people.
I’m in school studying to be an oceanographer right now, and I think it
may be important to relate my scientific familiarity with the sea to my
personal ocean relationship: for me, I always knew I was a part of the
ocean, and I felt wholly me in it. I didn’t need to be made aware of all
the life the sea contains, but I am on a mission to prevent suffering to
animals great and small, including the alleviation of the suffering
brought to humanity as a result of the state of the ocean.
While environmental/marine geochemistry could be called a “hard
major,” my motives are not nearly as intellectual or activist as they are
an act of profound love. I loath to see the suffering of both my piscine
and human brothers and sisters.
I’ve only been to the Pacific once. I felt Yemaja on Oahu especially.
The oceans are all different, yet, simultaneously, all the same. The world
ocean is multifaceted, just like humans and other beings. My strongest
resonance is with the Atlantic, especially the North Atlantic, where I hail
from.
I like to look at satellite images of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge: they look
like a spine to me: not just the texture, but the curvature, the shape and
length, and how they go right down the middle of the tectonic ocean
plate. The Atlantic feels more like someone I know than most people I
am close to, and, for me, science only makes me more of a believer in its
mysticism and my mission to save it, for some reason, never less.
As a child, my ideas, thoughts and feelings always left me the oddball
out. I was very artistic and, though, I was often praised for that, it was
even more frequently that I found myself completely misunderstood by
teachers and students alike.
I would always reassure myself: “It’s okay. I’m a mermaid.” Somehow
being a mermaid justified being vastly different from non-mer people. It
meant that I was essentially in a foreign land, and that the cultural shock
was not my fault, but something mutual.
If you saw my room, you might actually guess that I’m a mermaid. It’s
covered in shells that range from microscopy to larger than your head,
starfish and coral. I’ve collected thousands of sea things over the years,
and I use them as inspiration for art, reference material for science or
academia, and to channel ocean energy into my life. Sometimes it feels
like my bedroom has an aura all its own. The walls and floor are almost
completely plastered by my art of sea creatures, handmade swimmable
mermaid tails, mandolins, ukuleles. Most of my many books have blue
covers because they’re about ocean science, maritime history, and sea
spirituality.
I also keep a ton of fish as pets. I need to be around fish to not feel
lonely or used up. All other animals are wonderful, and there isn’t an
animal I don’t love, but for me, fish are family, and having a shoal of my
own to return to every day is vital to my well-being.
“Fish make me happy” is an understatement. Currently I have a half
dozen bettas, in individual tanks and bowls depending on their needs,
and four adopted silver feeder minnows. I am in the process of setting up
saltwater aquaria as well, one for lookdowns and one for live cnidaria.
I know all of my fish and they all know me. Some of them know their
name, play games with me, and I know all of their individual likes and
requirements. I even know most of their sun signs. Taking care of them
is happier for me than my greatest ambitions in life. There is no one
more reliable when I am down and out than a fish, who will just swim up
to you and stay with you until it’s over.
When I was eighteen, I fantasized about having a very close relationship
with a fish named Poseidon, and when I moved into my dorm room, I
felt like something was missing. I had plenty of ocean stuff to bring in
the right energies for my college career, but I didn’t have an actual fish.
My roommate had one, and I could talk to him in the rare moment I had
the room to myself, but I felt like I really needed my own.
What I did have was a sheltered, introverted world view, my virginity,
and an insane roommate who insisted that her thirty-something
boyfriend sleep in the apartment with her. She screamed at me nonstop
until I finally found a new place to live a month into the semester. I
ended up switching rooms with another girl who was happy to take my
place in the apartment.
In the process, I was at the campus bookstore trying to clear my head,
and a couple of girls walked in. The girl in the middle was beaming
down at a tiny glass bowl with a baby betta fish in it. They were talking
about it excitedly, so I approached them.
“We got him from the guy out by the science buildings. He’s got a
bunch of them. They’re five dollars cash.”
I’m not one to use animals as an impromptu pick-me-up, but I made a
beeline for the science buildings. There were always white tents set up
between the buildings, and several old hippies would make the rounds,
selling their wares a few times each semester.
A long tent was positioned outside the Social Sciences façade, and an
older hippie man was running a sale of tropical plants. This has to be it, I
thought to myself. Under that tent, I felt like I was no longer in
Westchester, NY, but somewhere I didn’t have homework and crazy
roommate issues.
Amidst the hibiscus and bonsais I considered getting a plant instead,
but I made my way to the back of the tent; there were betta fish in little
glass bowls, stacked four-five bowls high. There must have been a few
hundred of them, all very young, and every color of the rainbow. There
was even a brown one grouped in with the reds. The red ones were
vibrant, and the blue ones on the other end were very animated and
virile. A purple one blew my doors off. The little brown one just clung to
its neon rainbow gravel bowl bottom, and I felt a little bad for it.
My eyes darted to two screaming red fish fighting through the glass, but
the blue ones were beyond stunning. I walked back and forth between
the reds and blues so many times I lost count—but something kept
calling me back to the little unhealthy looking one, some energy or inner
voice kept saying, “This is it. He’s it,” not for the day, not for the school
year—for life. I walked to the opposite end of the bowls, to the blue
ones, one more time—and an influx of other students stampeded in. A
single thought paralyzed me: no one but me would be leaving with that
little brown fish. Every fiber of my being said that we must never be
separated again.
 My heart leapt into my chest as about a half dozen hipsters encircled
the end of the fish display with the reds—and the brown one. I shoved
through them, as nothing was ever so important. Poseidon was still
there. I grabbed him as fast as I could, my entire coronary system
exploding, and, still in defense mode, rushed to the vendor.
“Fresh off the plane from Thailand,” the man said. “Have you named
him yet?”
“No,” I lied. I was doubting the name Poseidon a little.
“Here’s a bag of food. Don’t feed him too much but make sure you’re
feeding him enough, every day. And don’t put him in direct sunlight or
you’ll get an algae problem.”
“I know,” I said, amazed for lack of ever having met a human being so
vehement about the rights of a pet fish. The guy lectured me for a few
more minutes, detailing very specific instructions for how to care for
Poseidon. Either this is the most special fish ever and he’s magic, I
thought, or this guy is ‘special!’
I didn’t have very much money, but so great was my relief that I had
overcome my superficial stupidity and was securely reunited with this
inexplicably important little creature that I probably would have paid the
guy whatever he could have possibly asked. Poseidon only cost five
dollars, and the bowl he was in cost another five—I would grab a bigger
fish bowl the next time I went home, but for now this one was fine—we
were together, and somehow that was the only thing that mattered.
I got him back to the room, and I had never been so excited about a fish
in my entire life. I couldn’t explain it, and I think I was almost afraid;
the feeling was that he was so much more than a creature of this world.
The month of October flew by and Poseidon’s dull brown color, which
proved to be jetlag, disappeared beneath a rich purple crimson. When he
was in an especially chipper mood, there were spots and stripes of
iridescent lavender. Over time, his bright fins grew longer and more
cascadey than those of any betta I had ever seen.
 When I first had him, it only felt like a reunion, like meeting up with
your sister at the mall. It felt like a part of me always knew we were on
to meet up. It felt like I had been waiting forever, and, finally, he was
here. I couldn’t explain to myself or to anyone else why or how much I
loved him. And I couldn’t wait to introduce him to everyone else I knew.
Poseidon and I had a better understanding of one another’s body
language and emotional vibes than you would ever attribute to a fish-
person relationship. I often felt like my mood rubbed off on him, and his
on me. I would play my ukulele right near his bowl so he’d feel the
repetitive vibrations. He’d swim right up and dance, he really loved it.
Other times, I would cry, and he would swim up to the glass, not asking
for food, and just hover by my head, the pet fish way of holding you
when you’re falling apart.
Poseidon was also very opinionated about everyone I knew. Some
people he liked, others, he did not. It was strange because the people he
didn’t like were actually very bad for me. I had two boyfriends at that
school, and the first one was for only a few months of freshman year.
Poseidon hated him. When the guy would leave for the night, I’d look
over, and Poseidon would look half-dead, pale, and very sluggish. It
makes sense in hindsight because the guy almost always did something
really terrible, often sexually coercing me, humiliating and making fun
of me, and telling me I’m not good enough, boring for being introvert, or
crazy and wrong if I dared disagree with him over anything. Sometimes
Posi would float on his side. And sometimes I would cry, and Poseidon
would practically hold my hand.
He loved my roommate. Despite my inexplicable excitement and relief
to finally have Poseidon in my life, she was the first person who really
actually got just how special he was. She talked to him, and it was from
her that he learned his name. (If you stand over the tank and say their
name in a loving, almost musical voice that makes a very slight ripple,
the fish will learn that vibration as their name and come to you. This was
before I started playing music for him, so I thought she was a little nuts,
but after a while I went with it. I was shocked, and suddenly I realized
that Poseidon had been trying to be my friend for a few months, and,
though I really loved him, I thought of him as “just a fish.” I felt an
unbelievable need to make up for lost time.
The new girl didn’t know this, but I’d rush back from class and her
friends would say, “That’s a crazy fish you got there” or “I couldn’t
believe what your fish did! He’s got such a personality!” or “The fish
loves ____ but not ____. But he’ll breach like a whale if ____ comes
into the room.”
At night, Poseidon would rearrange the contents of his tank. We never
had to worry about decorating his bowl, because it was very personal to
him, and he even got upset if we interfered with his belongings—but we
also had trouble sleeping because he made so much noise that we’d
often wake up thinking someone had broken in! We’d look at each other,
“Poseidon, quit it!” and lay right back down into REM sleep like nothing
happened.
My second boyfriend, let’s call him Joe, came into the picture at the
end of my freshman year. It was love at first sight with this guy, and we
had so much in common. We love filmmaking. We’re both half-
Southern Italian. We were born straight across the Long Island Sound
from each other. We both have the sun in Sagittarius. We’d go for late
night drives and lose track of what state we were in.
Poseidon met Joe on the last night of school. “This is Poseidon, and if
anything ever happens to him, I will not be okay!” I remember saying.
Posi loved him. Maybe he sensed how happy I was with someone for
once. Poseidon and I had a game where I’d dangle my finger an inch or
two above the water, and he’d leap out and gently bite it. I asked Joe to
see if he’d do it for him, and he did. We watched TV and Poseidon
swam between Joe and me excitedly the whole time. All of this meant
Poseidon approved.
Bettas do not live long. All too soon Poseidon passed away. But he
comes to me in dreams: a short while after he died, my relationship with
Joe turned toxic. I didn’t want to believe it, but I knew it was going to
turn in a matter of days because Poseidon had warned me in a dream. He
kept coming to me telling me to “Leave Joe! He’s going to hurt you.”
Ultimately, he did.
After two years on and off, we broke up for the last time eighteen
months ago. I realized that Joe had never been all that good to me:
dictating that I dress more covered up, that I should get glasses because
they were a turn-on for him, and he even tried to make me dye my hair
from blonde to red, shorten it, and wear it up more. I have a mermaid
friend who gives into these kinds of demands, but I never will. I realize
now that what I really wanted was to feel anchored in a world that was
hostile to me, as I am but a traveler among humans,
It is rare that I am attracted to men. The guys I don’t want all suffer
from a common denominator: they want me way too much, so much, in
fact, that I’m not even sure that it’s me that they want anymore. When I
let them down, they get angry, sad, beg me to reconsider, or just
blatantly ignore or do not accept that I am not interested. I don’t want
them because they’re often not (yet) their own people, and I see signs of
them wanting to merge with me on every level, whether I’m ready for a
high level of commitment, willing to share certain parts of my life, or
not.
At one job I had in a store, the male customers came in and refused to
call me by my name, constantly telling me what actress or Playboy
model I look most like. By the time I quit, I had been Marilyn Monroe,
Kate Upton, “a prettier version of Laura Dern”, Brigitte Bardot, and a
few others. One man in particular refused to call me by my name, but
“Blondie” or “Marilyn.”
It infuriated me. Men were following me home, coming into the store
and saying things like, “Hey, baby, so I was just reading your inspection
sticker...” as if they should know what car is mine; unzipping their flies,
throwing their numbers at me, and even saying really scary things like,
“I wonder what it sounds like when you scream.”
 My coworkers were not helpful either: some of the women acted like I
was ridiculous for constantly asking for their support in disgusting
situations, or thought that I was bringing it on for an ego stroke. The
men made fun of me for it. I was afraid to go into work, and I had no
support from my staff.
Other times it would happen with total strangers. Stalkers are easy to
come by if you stay in one place too long, but strangers are just as bad.
If I stop to let a pedestrian pass, sometimes he’ll be so busy staring at me
that I become wildly uncomfortable, and he’ll almost get hit by the
oncoming traffic. Or I’ll get honked if I’m on foot twenty times in an
hour, even if I don’t feel my most attractive. Or men will follow me
around a grocery store or the village by school, even with their wives in
tow.
I have been playing therapist to nearly everyone around me for longer
than I can remember. For some reason, people in my life have decided I
am a loading—unloading dock—where they can drop off their negativity
and stress, and it doesn’t matter how it affects me because I “can take
it.” Sometimes it gets to be too much, especially since essentially all of
these people have no desire to council or listen to me when I need to
talk, but usually even I am amazed at my own level of insight.
I should not understand the problems of middle-aged women. I should
not understand single moms, or my friends who are having problems
with their boyfriends. I should not be able to feel what my grandparents
did during the Great Depression, or the unbelievably alienating boat ride
from Sicily to Ellis Island. I should not be able to sense every thought a
lover has about me, good, bad, or otherwise. I should not be able to tell
that people are talking about me behind my back who are masters of
deceit. I should not know what worrying about your kids feels like.
Sometimes I feel like I feel other people’s stuff more deeply than they
do. I’m like a tool people can use to figure out what they feel. When
other people aren’t being understanding of one another, I always find
myself saying something like, “Put yourself in ___’s shoes. Imagine
what they’re feeling.” They usually can’t do this. And then I offer all the
insights I have into it.
And just about everyone says, “You nailed me. I have chills” or
“Whoa, you’re so right, I didn’t even realize I was feeling or thinking
that” or even “You’re the only person who’s ever gotten me.” I also
seem to be the authority on who people can and cannot trust. That is not
to say that I play loyalty-based ultimatums, but everyone comes up to
me asking about a certain person’s motives, often even if I don’t know
the person in question. And they tell me later how scary accurate I am.
I’ve been described as an “old soul” for most of my life. Sometimes,
growing up, adults would forget that I was a child they were talking to,
and feel a little uncomfortable.
I want to preface my environmental concerns that follow by saying that
I’m not a very political person. In fact I feel most issues that divide
Democrat or Republican seem more like basic rights that are universal
rather than up for a bipartisan discussion. I respect everyone’s opinion,
and have no desire to try and change it. I’ve supported politicians from
all parties, and elected both Democrats and Republicans about equally.
In spring of 2010, the Administration hit closer to home, when Obama
granted a safety protocol override to British Petroleum to drill for oil in
the Gulf of Mexico. He and his administration disallowed the Interior
Department from the inspection that would have determined in advance
that the Deepwater Horizon was unfit for the voyage, and the word
disaster is an understatement: the Deepwater Horizon tragedy is the
largest offshore oil spill in history, about the equivalent of 15 Exxon
Valdezes.
A spill like that requires immediate attention. Taking action the same
day or the morning after, at the latest, is the only micro glimmer of hope
against the piles of oil-covered creatures piled on the shore (And all
those already-endangered sea turtles. The Gulf is the only place they’re
found on the planet).
 I think my relationship to people is not very different from my
relationship to fish, although the latter is very often much deeper, and I
am working to protect fish from people. But in that lies a very important
lesson for humanity. If you know anything about the fishing industry, the
treatment of fish absolutely carries over to the treatment of one another.
Yes, I am more than concerned about the world my generation’s
children will inherit if there are no fish, no large sea creatures, and no
coral reefs left. But I am reminded of one of J.K. Rowling’s more
inspiring quotes via Harry Potter: “If you want to see the true measure of
a man, look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.” I know mer
people who are content just to love, but for me, love is empty without
kindness and without action.
For thousands of years, fish have been the low creatures on the
empathy totem pole: in 2009, a definitive study determined that, yes, fish
do feel physical pain, as well as fear, sadness, and other emotions, if
provoked. Some of us have known that all along, though, and it doesn’t
seem like such a milestone to me to figure out that any animal with a
brain should be protected and granted certain rights.
The bluefin pens in the Pacific are a great example. It’s a multibillion-
dollar industry, and yet the fish are miserable. Like sharks, they need to
continuously swim in order to survive (although for tuna it’s more about
body heat regulation than breathing), but there is no personal space in
those cramped quarters, and the fish are forced to swim in tightly-packed
circles for years, trapped with their own waste, which also leaks out into
the ocean as very highly concentrated ammonia. If a storm hits at sea,
the feces are stirred up, the fish are trapped, and sometimes are drowned
by being forced to inhale their own bowels through their gills.
Much of the world seafood supply actually comes from pirate slavery.
In Africa and Southeast Asia, this practice is commonplace. Fishermen
are promised a decent salary, but barely make any profit, if paid at all.
Usually the payment is in the form of less desirable bycatch, which they
are expected to sell to markets on land. Complaining gets you marooned.
 I think that if humanity can learn to support everyone, from the poor of
their own race to my beloved friends, the fish, then not only will the
oceans start to make the turnaround, and the people on the bottom will
be freed, but we will live in a world where there is understanding for all,
where there is consideration for our every action.
People won’t be nasty to each other. There will be equality for
everyone. Love and prosperity would be such global game-changers if
fish had a voice. I have volunteered to be their voice.

A 7th Mermaid Woman

I've been meaning to write to you for some time. There are many
“strange” things that have happened to me since I was a little girl, but
the weirdest and most wonderful thing is that I can actually talk to water
and I listen to what it says to me. I know many people must write to you
thinking they're mermaids. But I don't want to make a mistake in this
matter. I do not consider myself special. I just want to share part of my
story with you and hear what you have to say.
I've been reading your book, Mermaid Tales. I identify so much with
the characters in your book that I had to stop reading because I got
scared. I also read your essay, Traits of Mermaid Women, and I am
“shocked” because it is so much about me. Like the part on innocence
fits me. And your descriptions of mer relationships to men apply to me.
I just watched your video at: https://youtu.be/TVwVY0kr1jk where this
beautiful mermaid, Rachel, describes the traits of mermaid women.
Again, this describes me.
These descriptions bring to light places inside of me that I've been
always afraid to share. All my vulnerability and hypersensitive feelings
of empathy and everything you describe about these beings fit me. I
have repressed this side of myself for too long, for not feeling
understood, and for having been abused in many ways, to the point of
closing myself up in order to survive.
For example, it is still difficult for me to be in a group of people
because there is so much information to take in. So supermarkets,
subways, and birthday parties are a problem. As a child I spent many
years being sick because my empathy would feel and take on the illness
in other people. My body is not defined in form by my skin since I feel
beyond my body and pick up what others are feeling. It is not like me
and my body and the world out there. They blend together as one big
thing.
I was born 1984 in Uruguay during a big thunderstorm. I cry easily,
empathy, beauty, and bad things too. I am very emotional.
When I was little I would ask myself, “Who am I?” it created circles
with different levels of consciousness when I was three years old. And I
could taste in my tongue the taste of infinity.
I taught myself to read at there and a half. And I thought like an adult. I
feel all ages at the same time. Old, young, child, woman,
When I was five years old at the beach, I asked the sea to turn me into a
being of water. I did not know the word “mermaid.”
At school, people wanted to shape me. Late childhood and teens were
difficult. I was never part of a group of people. I get really tired in
groups. I can’t handle all the information I am taking in for example like
being in the subway. I feel too much.
It is not easy to recognize the boundaries of my body so every time
someone tells me something with strong feelings I will need more time
alone that day. I need to defend my silence.
When seventeen, I had intense experiences talking to dead people. They
came to me. And I started to have very strange dreams. A man dressed
in white gave me exercises to do. And if I put my hands on the wall of
house and I get memories of house. I can tell if people dead or alive by
looking at their pictures.
 I really want to understand my true nature, who I am in this form, right
now. One recent change is that since I discovered that I could heal
people through the magic of water, I don't really go to sleep anymore. I
can actually feel the energy in water and I gather and concentrate it in
my hands and then use it to heal other’s astral and physical bodies. A
friend could see this and she said it becomes so dense it changes in color
to aqua and lilac.
I have healed people by putting my hands in a glass of water with
instructions and they got better from moment they drank it. My
boyfriend had a swollen ankle. I thought that if I can talk to the rain, I
can talk to water in body. Now I heal every day at a distance. Sometimes
six people per day. I can see the energy coming out of my hands with
colors of lilac, marine, and purple.
I've been talking to spirits as well. They told me they feed on the
feelings that come out of my music and they wanted me to know that
they are protecting me. This was so beautiful. The one I talked to the
most offered me a way to be always connected to him. So he has been
teaching me about magic and love as well. It's more like they help me
bond with my true nature. It's like everything is there, but for having felt
so alone in the past I always chose not to look at it, not to take care of
my true self.
Can you imagine how I smile every time I read your stories and listen
to these women? I feel joy, so deeply I cry sometimes out of beauty.
I don't know how to thank you enough. I feel so much gratitude for
being able to share all of this with someone who understands.
I've never felt human. When I was little, I used to tell my parents that I
was an extraterrestrial. And I also spent a lot of time near water when I
was a child. They had to pull me out of the sea. I never wanted to get
out.
I feel repulsion to lies and mostly hypocrisy. These are things that are
unimaginable to me. Since I was a little girl, I always looked for the
truth and to be honest. I truly believe that when we're not honest, we
waste energy and time.
I can also heal people at a distance. I've been doing this to people in
different countries. I've done it to people I know very well and people I
saw only once. I do it when I feel the person is open to receive this, and
of course, I ask for their permission.
Depending on the intensity of their unbalance in health, they recover
right away or they need more sessions to get better. I can also treat
illnesses created by negative emotions or lack of self-love. For example,
a friend who has cancer and refused to eat vegetables for a long time,
suddenly started to say, “I should eat beetroots and green leaves all the
time. I'm craving for them as if they were pizza.” This brings me peace,
self-realization and bliss. The ability to heal feels like something I
learned before and now I'm just remembering it.
I work as a musician, mainly a flute player, but I do compose, play
frame drum and sing as well. I also work reading natal charts, but this is
more recent, although I want to get deeper into that.
I've been working on some new songs that I haven't launched yet,
because I'm running a crowdfunding campaign to support my next
album. They're very special songs. I feel they come from the deepest
place inside of me, the truest expression of love I'm capable of.
I wanted to learn flute and I did. I wanted to sing when I was little and
someone said I could so I didn’t but now. I compose myself and have
recorded an album. Om 2013, I moved to Sao Paulo. I need taught
English and Spanish. I never liked Uruguay.
I have been playing with a band I liked. The music “lifts” the feelings
of people who hear us as if a light comes out of us. Since we play out of
doors, I talk to the clouds so they do not rain when we were playing. The
sky opens and the sun shines. People have notice that the rain stops
when we play and that it comes back when we are done. I listen to the
rain and rain listens to me. I have not told this to anyone.
Two months ago when I was meditating on the space between thoughts
and I was transported to a really beautiful place with a river. And then I
felt really cold and my legs turned into a tail. At first I was afraid
stopped meditating but it was also beautiful. I do not want to assume
anything from this experience. Perhaps it was a dream.
I feel good talking to you because you understand me better than I
understand myself and because I always felt that I don’t belong
anywhere. It is good that I am able to make a living out of playing music
even through it is unstable.
I noticed I was falling in love with the man’s inner self even though
the men often do not know this part of themselves. My intuition works
like this: I see the full potential of someone's soul and I feel like I should
help this person to connect with that essence. And I trust that they want
to become this version of themselves. Then, time goes by and I end up in
the same situation, worn out
It is painful when I break up with someone but I recover quickly and
am ready to love someone else. My friends were always amazed that I
can always be in one relationship or another when often they have time
when they are not with someone.

An Eighth Mermaid Woman

I have one older sister and was raised by an amazing mother. There was
a father, but I had no relationship with him until I was 27. He was in and
out. Every time he was around, there was havoc. Either violence, or
situations where we would have to move out of the family home.
He was always bankrupt, borrowing money, and on the ‘grey’ side of
the law. My mother was a stoic, courageous woman who was the
mother, father, bread winner, organizer, intelligence, embedded
incredible work ethic, disciplined, task focussed, CEO of the house hold,
resourceful, as well as an incredible educator and teacher.
She is a survivor of family violence. And she did a remarkable job
under the circumstances. My father was a muddled man who battled his
own demons. He too, was highly intelligent, and not ‘understood’ by
society.
 He made many mistakes that unfortunately were ‘doozies’ and he
ended up leaving Australia. He’s been living in the UK since 1995.
My father’s issues meant he was financially, emotionally and verbally
abusive. He was physically violent too, but never toward us girls. I was
terrified of him growing up, and only had the courage of friendship and
relationship after my own marriage broke down.
At the same time, I was terrified of him. But he was man of deep
thought and taught me to question everything, think critically, and view
the world from a vastly different perspective from mainstream society.
My sister struggled with her demons too, and was physically, verbally
and emotionally abusive to me from the age of 3 months. I had broken
ribs at that age from the violence,
I had amazing grandparents who were my rock. Even with the amazing
love I felt from my grandparents, unfortunately I too battled my own
demons. I looked to religion for help and became involved in a
fundamental sect from the age of 16 – 21. My demons were mental
health issues which presented as OCD as a young child, and as an adult
it was PTSD in the shape of suicidal depression and bulimia. These
eventually led to a break down after I fled a sexually and emotionally
abusive and violent marriage.
I bought a one-way ticket to the UK to rebuilt my life from the bare
roots up. There I build a relationship with my father and ended up his
house mate for 2 years.
My life has been pretty fantastic since this time. I “forgave and forgot”
and moved on with a new and enriching life, full of joy.
I had been lucky to be smart enough to go through a great school in
Melbourne with a BA from University of Melbourne. I had a major in
linguistics and a minor in Chinese. I subsequently went to study in
Beijing from 1994 to1995 which was a great experience. After another
great experiences working in the UK for 2.5 years, I came back to
Australia to complete a degree in social science. I then worked as a
social worker and youth worker, which I loved doing. However, after
working with crisis clients, I burnt out.
I moved into coordinating programs at alternative schools for students
who’d been expelled or who had challenges to the point they couldn’t be
in mainstream education. I can honestly say I have loved every client I
have ever had the privilege to work with. There were hundreds of clients
with journeys and stories.
I was encouraged to teach by my colleagues. I loved doing that from
the 1st moment. I went on to get a teacher post grad degree and then
taught, which I also loved doing. The last couple of years I have
developed my own programs and deliver emotional management
education to students across Melbourne schools.
I’m currently studying post grad studies in career development and
education as I am in the middle of launching my new organisation that
promotes mental health and wellbeing in athletes. It goes from
community education to individual counselling for retiring and transiting
high performance athletes.
During the last 25years, I have also always been a swimming coach as
a hobby job. But I have found this to be a crucial part of my career,
growth, understanding of mental health, community and it has enriched
me with a different perspective from the crisis clients I have always
worked with. The opposite worlds have kept me balanced. I worked with
junior athletes through to national level athletes. My career is my
passion, and it has shaped me, developed me, and helped me grow and
learn and discover myself and the depths of what I have to give this
world.
My personal life has been family oriented for the last 15 years, with an
alternative family model. There are interesting stories, interesting
growth, and interesting family. Mainly I have had a huge dedication to
my niece who is now 11.
I am told all the time that I create ‘calm’ for people. I feel others’ pain,
and seem to have a ‘knowing’ about others. I know their story, whether
it be sad, traumatic, etc. I speak their deeper truth which can be
confronting for people. I ‘name’ their underlying feelings.
Growing up, I did not understand how others do not ‘feel’ to the extent
I do. I remember as a young child about 7, crying to the words of a Paul
Young pop song, and wondered why no one else was crying as it was so
powerful.
I was physically attacked when I was 5. A classmate came over to me,
and bit and scratched me until my face and top part of my body was
covered in blood and bruises. I didn’t react at all.
And then I wondered why the attacker got in so much trouble. She had
to leave the school. I was so upset and told my mother she needed to get
her anger out and it was better me than someone else who’d be hurt. The
school suggested I see a psychologist of some sort because there was
something wrong with me. My mother tried to understand me though,
and she had been told several times I was a ‘strange’ child.
I remember my mother yelling at me when I was about 4 because she
didn’t have ‘time’ to stop and appreciate the garden bed full of ants,
slaters, and other amazing things. I had a whole lot of slaters I wanted as
pets and no one would ‘stop’ from their busy lives to love them, and
love their funny behaviors with me. My mother eventually came to
understand me as best she could. She used to take me down to the tide
pools when the tide was out so I could spend hours and hours in the
water watching the life in the pools.
I didn’t have many friends as a child as I didn’t understand people and
had to learn social skills. I felt far too much. There were lots of
experiences at that age made me feel isolated from others.
I remember when I was about 7, I “knew” that my father had other
relationships and girlfriends, but I didn’t want to say anything. It turns
out I was right.
Early on I realized but did not understand that other people could not
feel as much as I did. Now, even though I am in the healing professions,
I still wonder how people ‘can’t’ feel each other, especially other
professionals. I expect colleagues to have an ‘innate’ understanding and
feelings of each child or person we work with.
 I hope they can ‘feel’ what their client is feeling, who is hurting. It
makes the therapy far more healing for the client. I’m still learning every
day that this is not the case. This is something that I feel sadness over.
And yet I believe if people let their barriers down or let go of their fears,
they can empathize with others.
As a child, water was my escape. I ended up in it every day growing
up. Swimming was my way to feel myself. Later on, I trained 8 times a
week as it was my way of being ‘myself. I was 12 months old when I
crawled into the deep end of the pool, sank down, and then came up
laughing. Water is a part of me. I’ve spent many years as a swim coach
for state and national swimmers also. Now the national Olympic swim
coaches ask me for advice regarding their swimmers’ needs and how to
give emotional support. You see, even though I often act and feel like a
child, I am not without insight and experience.
I now swim several times a week. Everyone jokes that I have a “pre
swim” personality and a “post swim” personality. By swimming, I wash
away the day. Most days I swim 2 kms or more. Water is my ‘happy
place.’ It’s where I regenerate, meditate, heal, recharge, refresh, relax,
and rebuild. It is my home and my sanctuary. I’m much more ‘free’ in
the water. Walking is ‘heavy.’ Swimming is freedom.
I feel we are all part of nature. I feel the earth’s heartbeat, especially
while hiking or alone with waterfalls in ancient parts of the land. And
yet again, I thought that when people go into the bush or hiking, they
feel the same, that they are within and a part of bush, earth, or forests. I
feel inspired in nature. I know this doesn’t happen to everyone.
All the same, I do feel there has always been a strong purpose to life
from the day I was born. This purpose is not specific. Yet I do not set
goals, even though I am now 43. I am still trying to understand why one
is supposed to ‘plan’ life and arrive at certain points in the future.
I struggle with romantic relationships and am not successful at them.
Perhaps this is because I feel so comfortable being on my own. I require
independence. At the same time, I am very mammy bear to everyone.
People feel so ‘connected’ to me, and yet, I feel no one really knows
who I am, and I feel a little sad about this sometimes.
 I am still very close to most of my previous partners/boyfriends. There
are a few that have turned a little crazy during break up time, and I’m
not in contact with. For me, when a relationship ends, it is a sad and yet
a beautiful time. Looking back, there are so many ‘aha’ moments, much
learnings, and so much love that is communicated during the end stage
of an intimate relationship. I always wish I can keep the friendships as
open and connected. But I understand not everyone likes this, and
several men have told me they cannot be friends with me afterwards.
It probably does not help men letting go of me in that I am on the
extreme end of being uninhibited—sexually and non sexually. I’m am
not sure if I have met someone who is as extreme as me. I do not recall
anyone.
My friends joke when I go to a public toilet. They say, “Who are you
going to come back with?” I always make friends with strangers who tell
me their whole life story in 2 minutes of meeting me.
I have been struggling lately with not having so much of my energy
taken by others. I just learned a new ‘protection’ ritual for the mornings
so I feel I have a bit of ‘me’ left at the end of the day.
I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt someone else, ever. I have
never felt selfish, though currently I feel selfish trying to prioritize
taking care of myself and my health first. I know this will help me be a
better person for others.
When it comes to healing, I close my eyes and ask the other for
permission. And then I visualize my love and energy overflowing to that
person. The energy I generate creates its own color. Then I watch that
flow of colorful energy embrace and flow through the other person.
-
As I have mentioned, I can feel what others feel. Emotional
understanding of others was crystal clear even back in kindergarten. And
that was difficult because it created strange friendships and others
attached themselves to me, such as siblings of friends.
The “why” of people’s emotions never mattered to me, probably right
up to when I was 12. Then there was an incident involving a family
friend who I thought was suicided. I knew he was desperate and in an
incredibly sad state emotionally. But I was too quiet, shy, and
introverted to reach out to him. His death led me to try to understand
people’s contexts.
That was a pivotal moment out of which I fell into the career I have. I
create a safe space for the client. The “why” flows from this and then the
problem solving can begin. Validation of feeling is the most important
aspect. Sometimes I think that simply ‘being’ with someone else’s
emotions and feelings is enough. People have a craving to be completely
understood—just as they are and where they’re at. And this has also
been the struggle—when there are no boundaries in the ‘one’
connection, people feel they can re-enter/barge through any normal/safe
boundaries of mine.
It took me years to understand how to put boundaries in place. This has
been very hard in fact. And this is complicated by my overpowering
desire to help others. Helping others was the only thing that made sense.
It was the only place I felt I could be ‘me.’ Involving myself in this way
with others, I could ‘forget’ about everything else. It was my zone.
But with hyper empathy comes burn out. And I need to help myself as
well. And that is challenging but necessary.
And then there are children. They have become my life, my gift, my
career, and my friends. They ‘get me’ and I ‘get’ them. They don’t see
me as a grown up. And that can be amusing and entertaining at times.
Sometimes I have to explain to children that I’m actually a grown up.

Ninth Mermaid Woman

My first memory was probably when I was 3 or 4 years old and we lived
in Cleveland, Ohio. I have a memory of my doll and being in a laundry
room. I remember my uncle bringing over some plastic action figures for
us to play with. I remember my babysitter crawling through the window
because we got locked out. I remember the stairs and the entryway of the
Cleveland house, and the laundry room downstairs. We lived there until
I was 4. We moved to California when I was 5 and I vaguely remember
being in the car and driving out to California.
 There have been a lot of very positive and very painful things that have
happened during my life. My life is a study of contrasts with little room
in the middle. However, the conflicts have definitely taught me a lot and
been very helpful in terms of growth and personal development and
learning compassion and consideration for others.
From my first memory, my mother is someone who was very unhappy
while I was growing up. I never felt like she really wanted us when we
were children. Even now, she is nurturing and caring but is largely
unreachable and in a bigger sense I always felt like she didn’t really care
about us. Whatever happens tends to be about her, and her reaction and
how upset it made her.
She is loving and cares, but for example, my brothers have both had
drug and alcohol problems. A lot of the time I felt like the issue was her
reaction and her emotional response to the problem rather than a full
comprehension for my brother’s suffering. She could not understand
what drove them to do what they did.
I always felt like I could feel what my brothers felt and I understood
why they did what they did. I feel that they did not think they had any
self-worth or any value. I believe we were taught to prove our value and
worth, as my grandma did with my dad, and my brothers couldn’t
compete and gave up. I have tried my best to ‘prove my value’ but I feel
I’ve reached a point where I am burnt out on it. I feel exhausted from
this. I don’t want to try to prove myself anymore to make them happy.
I remember age 5-7 being a happy time. From there, I think a major
turning point in my life was when I was 7 years old and we moved from
our little house to a big house on a hill and my dad starting making a lot
more money. Everything changed after that.
My mom became increasingly unhappy and resented being with me
and my brothers more and more. My dad was gone a lot and I felt like he
seemed to have more stress and tension than before. This is also when I
remember him beginning to drink more. I don’t really remember my
mom being that miserable or my dad drinking before he made more
money and we moved into the big house.
I remember some happy times from when I was 5-7 years old when
they had enough money to support us but not a lot extra. I still don’t ever
remember feeling like my mom loved us or wanted to be with us, but she
seemed happier then. I remember my dad being happier too and more
involved with us. He would do fun things like dress up on Halloween,
and drive us to school and spend time with us.
Once he started making more money and had more status and a better
job all that changed. However, I think that with my parents becoming
less happy, it negatively affected my brothers and I as well.
When I was 8, my brothers and I went to Catholic school, which was a
major change. I did well at public school so it was a hard to make the
change and be in a disciplined environment. I didn’t need any discipline.
I was always able to self-regulate myself, even when I was 4 or 5. I
didn’t need anyone to really tell me what was ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ because
I already knew. Going to Catholic school was nice for me because of the
spiritual part, but I think the harshness and the discipline was
unnecessary and I started having anxiety when I was 7 or 8 because of
the strictness. I respond well to kindness and love. I don’t function as
well with strict rules and harsh discipline. It has always seemed
unnecessary to me.
When I was 12/13 I struggled with being ‘chubby’ and my parents
were unhappy with my weight and would make me go running with
them. This started my body image/body weight issues which I still
struggle with to some degree but are much better than before. Also
around this time I found that I was different from other kids because I
could always ‘go it alone’ and be independent. I didn’t need to go with
the crowd. It was around this age that I noticed that my values were
inherently different from others. I didn’t have the need to belong or be
accepted like the other kids did. I became increasingly independent and
if people were doing things that didn’t fit with my morals and values, I
would just do my own thing. I was always loving and kind and I don’t
remember being judgmental or mean. If something wasn’t part of my
value system and I didn’t feel like it matched my morals, then I wouldn’t
go along with it. I always felt like I had some sort of mission to help
people and I wouldn’t go along with anything that might hurt my
chances of helping others in the future.
 I went to an all-girls Catholic high school when I was 14 and I just
became more and more this way. I was increasingly independent. I was
very good at swim team, cross-country and lacrosse. I was good at
sprinting and things that required endurance and independence. I loved
swimming but hate the cold and don’t like chlorine. I love swimming in
warm ocean water the most (like Florida water).
I also noticed in high school with sports and with having to push
myself in private school that I could withstand more emotional and
physical discomfort and pain than others. I never needed or wanted to fit
into the crowd. Rather, I just wanted to be friends with everyone and
friends with all the crowds. I always felt like, ‘Why can’t we all just get
along? Why can’t we all be happy and nice to each other? Why can’t we
all like each other?’
I never understood and still don’t understand jealousy, unkindness,
meanness, or nasty behavior that I have seen women express. I never
understood the pettiness and meanness I saw from other girls.
I remember being told in high school that I was ‘too nice’ ‘too
sensitive’ ‘the nicest girl in the class.’ High school was a mixed time for
me because I started having more trouble with asthma and my brother
began having problems with alcohol. I don’t know if my dad had
problems with alcohol exactly, but I remember him drinking everyday
about 3-4 glasses of wine since I was probably 7 or 8 years old. He had a
cabinet full of liquor and another cupboard full of liquor and a wine
cellar.
My brother used to steal his liquor and wine, but he had so much of it
no one really noticed. My asthma began when I was 14 years old, but it
got worse around the time that my brother and dad seemed to be
drinking more heavily. I remember both of them drinking a lot while I
was in high school. High school was really when a lot of problems
began in my life. Before then, the main stresses were just worrying too
much about things and being too sensitive and caring too much and
feeling like I was a therapist to my family.
I don’t remember my mom and dad being particularly happy but there
weren’t any major traumas until high school began. I had trouble with
hives and things like that before high school, but nothing major. A lot of
the traumas and stress of my life began when I was 16.
I went to college when I was 18, and college was great. It was really
fun and easy for me, and I remember feeling sad when I finished all my
classes. I loved my classes! My degree was in Global Studies. I always
loved to learn about how the world could be made into a better place.
I finished college in 3 years and really enjoyed it. A major turning
point during college was when I graduated and didn’t know what I
should be doing next. It was a very overwhelming and upsetting time for
me because I finished college early and then felt totally lost.
I have always done well in school and university environments, so to
all of a sudden feel like I had no direction was very hard on me. From
age 21-25 I really felt lost and tried a lot of different jobs, and even went
to law school for 5 months before dropping out and moving home.
Oddly enough, it was when I was at home and decided to nanny that
everything sort of came into focus. I like to feel like I am on some sort
of path to help people. I am not driven by money or anything like that. I
am driven by the intention to help others, to make others feel uplifted. I
want everyone around me to be as happy as possible and feel as loved as
possible. That would be heaven to me. If I don’t feel like I am on a path
to this, I feel sick inside and it is hard for me.
People often come up to me in the street and tell me their problems, I
make instant connections with strangers, cashiers, baristas, people that
do my nails, my hair, etc. I used to think everyone was this way, but I’m
not sure if that is true. I feel like I can see past the outer exterior of
someone and see who they really are and what is going on with them
and what they need to hear. I see their potential and what they need to
feel whole. I think that is why I attract people who don’t feel whole to
begin with.
I tend to have ‘deep’ conversations and say ‘deep’ things, but they
seem so totally normal to me I don’t understand how they are deep, it is
just life and obvious and normal to me
I wanted to go into the Peace Corps but I have difficulty with asthma
and food allergies. My application for the Peace Corps was dragged out
in 2007 and my dad recommended I check out the Monterey Institute of
International Studies and their programs to help other people in other
countries. I randomly applied and was accepted and got a scholarship.
My parents said I could live at home to cut costs. I started my MPA
program in January 2008 and I loved it. I loved a program that was
completely focused on development work in other countries and totally
devoted to improving the lives of the poorest in the world. I traveled to
other countries and learned other languages and met so many awesome
people. I took a leave of absence to work in East and West Africa and I
also went to Mexico and Syria for Spanish and Arabic. It was the best
time of my life. It was one of those things that you don’t want to end. It
was like a pocket of joy and heaven.
From there I went on to do my PhD in Public Health at the University
of South Florida. I was so fortunate I received 2 scholarships to go there
and was also able to earn extra income by working for the university. I
wanted to go to a school by the water, in a warm, tropical climate that
would give me a scholarship. I really worked on visualizing what I
wanted beforehand, and everything came through. The same was true
during my master’s degree program. I focused on visualizing what I
wanted and how it felt to have it and it was amazing when it all worked
out.
I am good and getting better at visualizing things I want to happen. I
visualize them and feel connected and feel that they are with me, and it
happens at some point in the future. I have been incredibly blessed in
many ways. There have been a lot of hardships, but I am unusually
fortunate in my opinion and have had a lot of unusual experiences. The
trick is just knowing what I want to have happen and feeling calm and
happy enough to focus on it. Well, more specifically, I guess I would say
feel ‘loving enough’ towards the thing I am visualizing in order for it to
happen. Love is a necessary ingredient. I have to love the thing or focus
love at the thing I want to manifest. I realize that sounds strange, but it is
really based in love. Fear blocks and love creates.
I did my PhD in Public Health from 2010-2014, and just graduated in
May. I started off with the topic of child hunger in developing countries
but through a series of traumatizing events, I ended up beginning
meditation in January 2012 and my life has never been the same. I
switched my dissertation topic to mindfulness meditation in public
health in 2012 and investigated how it can be applied to large
populations.
With my college degree, my master’s degree, and my PhD, it was very
important to me to be by the water. For example, I went to the
University of California, Santa Barbara for college and it was very
important to me to be at a place that was next to the water and in a warm
climate. My master’s degree program was in Monterey, California, and
although I don’t like the cold, dark water in Monterey, I love and feel at
peace by the ocean. The same was true for my PhD. I am struggling a bit
right now with where to go next because I feel like I need to be by the
ocean and in a warm tropical climate. Anything else in the long-term and
I feel sort of sick inside. My boyfriend is the same way. He is very
peaceful, loving and needs to be in a tropical climate by the water.
At this point, after having completed the dissertation, I feel like I want
to write books on love and peace that could appeal to large groups of
people. I am not sure if this is a horrible idea and will end up with no
one reading them. However, I feel like when my mind is clear I probably
communicate ‘deeper things’ better in writing than with talking.
I am good at speaking to others, but I feel like intimate, difficult things
to discuss are better in writing. I also like to write poetry but feel shy to
show anyone my writing. I feel like other people won’t get it or will be
shocked that I wrote it because it is very different from how I speak.
Sometimes when I write it feels more like the information is coming
through me rather than that I actually created it myself. The things I
have written do not feel like they are from ‘this world’.
Aside from this, there have been a lot of experiences, too many to write
about in 10 pages, with my family, addictions, brothers’ suicidal
tendencies, eating disorder things, sexual harassment issues, abusive
boyfriends, controlling people and others which have affected me. But
collectively, I would say that my experience so far has been one of
gathering information on people, places, things, and life. I feel like I am
always observing. Even as a child, my mom said I would stand or sit
quietly and just watch and observe everything and then say the most
insightful, shocking, ‘adult’ things from my observations.
 However, my experience has also been one of a lot of pain. It really
hurts me to see others suffer and that people don’t seem to see that the
love they are starving for can’t be found in things or taken from people.
It comes from within you. You are your own ‘energy’ source.
I would say my main issue in life has been with ‘emotional vampires’
(I think that is the term, I have just recently learned it). I feel like people
get attached to me and try to ‘take’ my energy. They become controlling
and obsessive because it is not possible to take it and they become
fearful of losing me.
My boyfriend has said that I am like the light in a dark world to him
and like water to someone who is dying of thirst. Overall, it has been
painful for me to feel what others feel and to see how much love is
needed and how much hurt there is. I feel like my purpose is to love and
to help. That is why I am here.
People often come up to me in the street and tell me their problems, I
make instant connections with strangers, cashiers, baristas, people that
do my nails, my hair, etc. I used to think everyone was this way, but I’m
not sure if that is true. I feel like I can see past the outer exterior of
someone and see who they really are and what is going on with them
and what they need to hear. I see their potential and what they need to
feel whole. I think that is why I attract people who don’t feel whole to
begin with.
I tend to have ‘deep’ conversations and say ‘deep’ things, but they
seem so totally normal to me I don’t understand how they are deep, it is
just life and obvious and normal to me.

Tenth Short Biography: Tales of an Intergalactic Hybrid and

Mermaid

WARNING: There are deep emotional triggers present in this writing

which include sexual assault, torture, violence of various forms, physical
abuse, etc.
I will try not to be too graphic. Usually when people ask me what the
most horrible moments of my life are they expect me to say something
about rape, electroshock, psychological torture, or the isolation I was put
through from the beginning. They don’t expect the simplicity of what I
tell them.
The worst day of my life was the day my father took me fishing. I even
have a picture of me doing it and smiling! When I was a kid there was a
little game that you could put batteries in where little fish would pop up
out of indentions in a spinning wheel and you would hang a plastic
fishing pole over them and try to hook one. I always thought it was a fun
game between me and the fish.
When my father took me “real” fishing I thought it was the exact same
thing. My first horrified moment was when my dad put a live, wriggling
worm on my hook. I started crying and freaking out which only made
him angry (rare was the moment when he was not angry). I was so
traumatized by the fact that someone could torture such a sweet,
innocent creature and hold it under water to drown!
I promptly freed all of the poor worms my father had brought for the
fishing day and set them free in the dirt. Then I demanded that my father
find something else for bait. He normally would have beat me within an
inch of my life but it was a rare day where he was doing something he
liked and perhaps I amused him more than anything else on that day. I
think he used cheese as a replacement.
Well, I caught a fish. I couldn’t bring myself to smile because I felt
like all of the air had been sucked out of me although I didn’t know why.
The hook on my fishing pole hadn’t gone all the way through the poor
creature’s lip and I couldn’t see that I had actually hurt it. I felt this
terrible dread like I had betrayed myself but I didn’t understand why
until a few days later. At that time, I thought that the fish had played a
game with me and just grabbed the hook in its mouth so it could come
up and see me.
 While I was telling a relative about it a few days later they graphically
informed me about what had really happened. Just thinking about it
makes me want to burst into tears and lose the contents of my stomach. I
cried for weeks and couldn’t be consoled. The floor just fell out from
beneath me and I couldn’t believe that I had misunderstood such a brutal
act.
The second most awful day of my life was when I was a little bit older.
It was my responsibility to clean the whole house and I didn’t know
much about toxic chemicals yet (although my body rejected medications
with great fervor.). I was using Windex to clean my dresser and I
stopped suddenly when I saw a little creature writhing in agony.
A ladybug had fallen into the burning chemical and was rapidly dying.
I ran into the bathroom with tears running down my face and cradled the
little love in my hands as I tried desperately to wash it off without
drowning it. It was too late and it died in my hands. I swear I had some
sort of PTSD from this for many years after. I never used a toxic
cleaning substance again and began researching what “eco-friendly” and
“going green” meant.
I had to do it at a friend’s house since I was rarely allowed on the
computer at home. Interactions with friends and visits to their houses
were so rare I can count them on one hand but it gave me the window of
time I needed to do some decent research. To those sweet souls who
suffered at my unknowing hands, I extend the most sincere apology and
love. Thank you for coming forward as my teachers to show me that the
world is not as innocent as I am and that my devotion to non-violence
and clean living is of utmost importance.
I will try to explain my life linearly to the best of my ability. This is
just an overview and a more complete account will follow later.
I was born knowing. I knew I was here to love and no matter what
anyone did to me I felt love for them. I do not know much about my
adoption, just that it occurred at an early age when I was still an infant.
 I was given to fundamentalist, Baptist Christian parents whose beliefs
gave little room for kindness or understanding. There was a stash of
homemade videos in my parent’s garage that I found in my late teen
years where violent beatings were issued to my 1 and 2 year old body
and recorded. I do not know where they are now. My father derived
sexual pleasure and deep satisfaction from dominating over me and
causing me “suffering” from day one.
We lived three miles from the beach in Virginia. Going to the beach
was the rarest happening and it was so painful to be separated from it.
The times that I did go there were amazing. I swam with bull sharks that
would “bump” me and guide me to the places with the best waves and
seashell collections and the dolphins would let me grab their dorsal fins
and pull me along parallel to the shoreline. I realize what a gift this is
now since dolphins jerk away for the most part when people try to touch
them.
I remember once I decided I was going to swim across the whole
Atlantic to run away and get to Europe. To me, it seemed a short
distance. I swam so far that the lifeguards called for backup and asked a
speed boat to go looking for me. When I got tired, I held onto a mother
shark that had her baby nearby in the water.
The lifeguards had sheer panic in their faces when they saw the shark
next to me and although they were not bad people by nature they were
talking about shooting her out of fear. Luckily, they grabbed me, put me
in the boat, and went back to shore which was long out of sight.
I could hold my breath for 5 minutes under water as a kid and this time
extended even more when I got older until I began displaying the
symptoms of MS and my lung capacity was greatly reduced. When I
would go underwater I would hear music and songs and when I got
home I would try to copy the frequencies I heard while I played in the
bathtub.
Getting back to the main story, I was isolated from everyone and kept
indoors almost all of the time although there are a couple of pictures of
me on the beach as a little girl. By the time I was four or five I was
receiving regular daily beatings from my father. He would use his belt
buckle, spiked meat tenderizers, and even whips to punish me. I was
always required to be naked for these long beatings and to say, “thank
you sir” when he was finished.
His phrase before he would start was, “I’m going to hit you until you
cry and then I’m going to hit you until you stop crying.” It took all of the
willpower my little self had but I managed to stop crying during one of
these episodes, but it didn’t work. When he was finished I would be left
in a bloody-bruised puddle on the floor. I should have been hospitalized
numerous times but it never really happened.
My mother would abuse me like this too but more often than not she
was the enabler rather than the person who performed the belt swinging
duties. My brother came into the world when I was 4 and ½ and he too
experienced many acts of cruelty in his life.
Around this time, I began going to school at a Baptist Academy. There
really is no way to describe that place without sounding like I am
demonizing it. It will be interwoven throughout this writing and I
apologize in advance for skipping around a little bit in this writing.
There is a lot of information to cover.
At this young age I witnessed kids with broken arms and legs being
“spanked” on those areas in the principal’s office so that it would “hurt
more.” Creativity was instantly crushed and if you were not a robotized
drone they had ways of making sure you became that way. This is the
kind of place where you went to school and were totally brainwashed
and indoctrinated into the vicious cycle of violent Christianity. Teachers
would humiliate students in class for fun and women were treated like
breeding stock and cattle. Virginity determined a girl’s value there and
there were enough rules to drown yourself in.
My parents began noticing that I was talking to things that “weren’t
there.” On the rare occasions I went to the beach I was talking to beings
who were teaching me how to focus hard enough to make the propellers
on boats break. Dolphins there had so many scars from propellers hitting
them and many wounds from plastic and trash they had become
entangled in.
At the park I would be running through the thin woods shouting for
my faeries to “wait for me” as they excitedly rushed all around the trees
helping me collect acorns and food stashes for squirrels and wildlife.
When my mother tried to get me to become a Christian when I was four
I asked her why I needed angels and saving since I saw them sitting all
around me. I would talk to the fairies and star people who would come
into my room at night. I thought everyone else could see them too until
my mom walked right through Lily (one of the fairies) without hurting
or noticing her.
My parents began to say that I was possessed by a demon because I
was talking to the unseen and developing friendships that they could not
understand or control with this hidden realm. They began taking me to
the doctors at this point. Honestly I have no idea how they afforded it
since we were poor as dirt.
The doctors shoved pills down my throat and tried electroshock on me.
The doctors weren’t actually trying to hurt me but I always became
incredibly ill from the treatments they gave and I never stopped talking
to my invisible friends. This warranted more physical punishment from
my father. Sometimes I would close my eyes—past the point of tears—
and try to melt into the bed or the couch or whatever I was bent over
while my father beat down on me.
I heard ocean waves and birds singing when I did this as corny as it
may sound. I was the wave crashing onto the shore and I could never
really be broken. One day I noticed that as I “melted” into the bed the
pain lessened a little bit. I practiced melting like this over time and tried
to detach from my body. It didn’t help much but it took a bit of the sting
out when I thought I was going to die.
One day I cried out to “God” during one of these punishments and
begged him to take my life. I closed my eyes and waited to be taken but
nothing happened. I was lying on my stomach across the bed with my
arms splayed out in front of me. When I opened them I was looking into
this face of ultimate compassion. It was a male with blonde hair and
very handsome features who was holding my hands across the bed.
I whispered, “Who are you?” He replied, “I am love and we are in this
together.” I was crying from happiness for the rest of the beating.
Sometimes throughout the years I would look up and my love would
be there taking it all with me. After the beatings my father would always
examine my naked, bruised self very thoroughly to make sure he was
pleased with what he had done and that I had been punished enough.
I’m really going to skip around here and I will try to keep time
periods clear when I am discussing them. My high school years were
extremely hard on my body. I was forced into violin lessons at age four
(the same age I had started violin in my previous life) and kept to a
rigorous schedule. I was made to practice for 4-6 hours a day plus
homework and school and housekeeping duties. I usually only got 2
hours of sleep growing up if that.
My violin teacher would poke me with pins and needles (yes literally)
when she wasn’t happy with my progress. I was always the outcast in
school. Instead of talking to other kids about Britney Spears and
relationship problems I channeled and talked to elemental beings that
would come to me for conversations and the exchange of ideas.
My classmates always found cruel and unusual ways to torture the
spiders, ants, and various outdoor creatures native to playgrounds. I read
in an American Girl book that you could use jelly to attract ants so I took
an entire jar of jelly out of my parents’ fridge and put massive jelly
globs around the outside of the playground fence line.
I couldn’t save everything but the sugar attracted massive amounts of
insects and kept them out of reach from the other children. It was during
these years that my body slowly began to blossom from girlhood into
womanhood. My father noticed. It was then that I became his slave in so
many words. He was very into BDSM concepts and the idea of bondage
and forced acts.
I would be naked during these events and often handcuffed or tied up.
My father made me into his submissive. I was only allowed to wear
what he allowed me to wear and eat what he chose for me to eat. I went
without food many times during my 18 and under life.
At this time, I did not know what sex was and had no concept about
how my body worked or even what a uterus was. I was kept from
knowledge just as much as I was kept from the outside world.
I went to Christian school and church and that was it. If I were to talk
about all of the terrible things that happened in these places I would
never finish typing. Both places were monitored by my parents and there
was no real freedom.
During my ninth grade year I developed a friendship with a teacher
who took an interest in my mature outlook on life and “wise beyond my
years” personality. He was always very respectful of my space and never
made any inappropriate moves towards me. Students began saying that I
was “doing things” with said teacher and that he had romantic feelings
for me. I didn’t know what any of this meant and thought little of it.
I began my tenth grade year in 2007. One day I was in a room grading
papers for one of the teachers (I was always sought out by the teachers
for extra help with grading, setting up bulletin boards, setting up for
events, etc.) and one of the male teachers walked in and shut the door
behind him.
Call me innocent but I had no idea what rape or sex was. I found out
that day. He attacked me. He came prepared too and I imagine that he
had planned this out for a long time. He shoved cloth in my mouth and
held it in place so that my screams were muffled and went about his
deed. I did not know that level of pain was possible and I left my body in
complete shock.
When I “came to” I think he was gone. There’s a part of me that
remembers him still being there and saying something about “not
telling” or that he would be watching but I don’t know if I made that up
in my head or if it actually happened. I was lying there on the floor and
it took me awhile to even raise my head and attempt to move. This
happened after school and the teacher who was very good to me came
looking for me.
He came in and just sort of froze for a minute. I begged him not to say
anything. He didn’t respond verbally but helped me off of the floor and
carried me to the girl’s locker room. I could tell he didn’t really know
what to do or how to respond so I just asked him to leave me and go
about his work. He was in deep shock and still has PTSD from what he
saw. After he left I tried to get all of the blood off of me and calm
myself down.
I had a panic attack in the locker room shower and just laid there in a
ball for a while. I could barely walk but when I came out I found an
extra change of clothes and put them on. I acted like nothing had
happened for the next month. Then I started feeling sick. I would get
into the car and almost faint and I couldn’t keep food down.
Until this point I had no idea that sex was what caused pregnancy or
that a menstrual cycle was what signaled you could become pregnant. A
friend knew about these things and bought me a pregnancy test under
cover. When the double lines showed up I was terrified. I didn’t know
anything about abortion or “other options.”
I kept the pregnancy a secret for a very long time. Most of the people at
my school don’t even know about it. I didn’t get extremely large and I
was able to hide it under my loose, baggy school clothing. When my
father found out he flew into a rage and called me a whore and said I
was his and no other’s. He beat me brutally that night. I didn’t really
care. I curled up tightly with my knees along the sides of my stomach so
that he wouldn’t harm the baby and called on every power in the
universe to help me stay in that position so she would be safe.
My father caused hairline fractures to some of my lower vertebra and
caused internal bleeding but my daughter was safe. He beat me a lot
during this pregnancy but I always kept my belly tucked under me so
that no harm would come to the child inside of me.
I knew that adoption was the only option for my daughter so that she
would escape the pain my father would surely inflict upon her. She was
named and adopted by an incredible, sweet couple who were the kindest
people I had met on earth. I went into labor prematurely when she was
barely over 7 months in the womb. I delivered naturally in water with no
pain killers and communicated with her sweet soul the entire time.
During this time period the rumors had become a wildfire that were out
of control at school. The good teacher who had never caused me harm
was blamed for having “inappropriate relations with a student” and
kicked out of the church and school. I was made to stand in front of the
entire congregation and profess to being a whore. The man who attacked
me was never punished and he ended up raping another a girl a few
years after I left before being asked to leave the school.
I tried to tell a policeman what had happened but he was friends with
the men who led the school and church and he laughed it off and said he
understood the temptations of teenage years and that there was nothing
he could do. My daughter was born with various heart problems that
required extra hospital care. Thankfully, her new parents gave her the
best there was and raised her according to the Anastasia principles (as I
taught them). After her delivery, school ended and it was summer.
During this time, I was sent to a tough love camp.

Tough Love Camp

My experience at a tough love camp is a book in itself. Think of it as a

union between a lawless militia, sadists, and fundamentalist Christianity.
Think of it as an unregulated, illegal, and off the books summer camp
where rape and torture are part of the daily curriculum with occasional
murders thrown in.
 In perspective, think of the massive research that the Boston Globe
conducted into the systemic and global coverup by the Catholic Church
of the sexual abuse of children by its ordained priests. Some evils are
easily concealed when protected by powerful institutions. This militia
run summer camp is another example of well-concealed acts of pure
evil. Without the protection by rogue agents in the Federal government it
could not exist. I suspect my father once volunteered at this camp
because he whipped me in the same way that the camp guards did.

When I started 11th grade, everyone at school resented me because I was

so silent and unreadable. The kids I sat at the lunch table with assumed I
was a shy and innocent virgin. Whenever they would make a sexual joke
they would kind of laugh and say “poor innocent girl doesn’t know what
we’re saying.” I would stare blankly ahead and act as if I hadn’t heard
them.
I got to see my daughter on rare occasions. She always knew I was her
biological mother. I entered my 12th grade year after endless drama and
abuse. My father started to beat me one night because I got a 98% on a
test instead of a 100%. I was literally so sore and tired that I put my hand
out behind me to block the blow and most of the fingers on my left hand
were broken. This act of hatred and violence instantly ended my ability
to play the violin.

In my 11th grade year a boy expressed interest in me and my father

chased him off violently. I would wake up in the middle of the night and
my father would be standing over my bed staring at me like a psychotic
mental patient.
I was sent to a “Christian” University where students committed
suicide nearly every day. There was even a gang there whose initiation
practice was to rape a college girl.
 I walked into one of the dormitories one day just as my friend shot
herself in the face. Her insides went all over me and I spent hours
scrubbing myself in the shower.
One girl who had MS was pushed down three flights of stairs by the
other females in the building because she was in their way. She laid
there for 2 hours until I found her. Hundreds of people had just let her
lay there and either stepped on or over her on their way up the stairs.
Part of her skull was crushed in by people’s shoes. No one cared.
I went home for Thanksgiving and a friend asked me to go with her to
her new boyfriend’s house so that she wouldn’t be the only girl there.
Even though I do not like hanging out with people and cannot have fun
with them I went almost mechanically and sat in a chair in the living
room while she, her boyfriend, and her boyfriend’s friends raved over
football. Then my friend and most of the guys went out to get beer (I
cannot imagine drinking such toxicity). One boy stayed behind. He
looked like the kind of guy you would see in a Toyota commercial: clean
cut and professionally smooth.
I felt extremely uneasy. I tried to find some excuse to leave the house
but he wasn’t dumb and knew that I was onto him. We were in his
bedroom and he attacked me with a viciousness I’m sure his friends had
never seen. He held a knife to my throat and threatened me within an
inch of my life. I was shaking so hard I almost wriggled us off the bed.
The rape lasted for nearly an hour. I don’t know why my friend and the
other guys were gone for so long.
I remember a loud pop sound. When it was over there was blood all
over the floor. I didn’t understand why there was so much of it. I don’t
remember going home or driving. I must have though. I ended up in my
closet.
I laid there for 3 days. My parents thought I had driven back to college
but I was upstairs the whole time. My cousin was in a panic trying to
find me after discovering I was nowhere to be found and he was the one
who discovered me and carried me out to his car. He drove me back to
college and nursed me to the best of his ability in a hotel room. The
bleeding stopped after a while although I felt weak for a couple of
weeks.

I’m skipping so much about my life but I want to hit the main points. I
was homeless for a long time after all of this. I left college after the first
semester and nature was my pillow. A friend eventually got his own
apartment and took me in. Many things happened over the next year or
so and it is too much to write here.
In early 2013 my daughter passed away shortly before she was going to
turn 5. She was brilliant and consciously left the world in meditation
with me.
Earlier in this year of 2015, I discovered what the “pop” noise was
during the sexual assault. The guy had fired a gun inside of me and the
bullet had lodged in my uterus. My uterus exploded on the road early
this year and I almost died from the hemorrhage/loss of blood. The
doctor discovered the bullet.

The ocean, the stars, my bettas/fish, and the sweet elemental siblings
who were kind enough to show themselves to me sustained me
throughout my life. I cannot convey the depth of emotion and love I
have for all of these states of being: ocean, stars, mermaid sisters, and
everything elemental. I have never told anyone all of these details before
and there are huge gaps of my life I have left out. Another mer woman
talks to me openly about rapes she experienced but I never deliver up
much information on my end because I know I will traumatize her
deeply.
I have told fragments of this very short and incomplete summary of my
life to a couple of people and they do not understand how I have not
“snapped” or lost my mind. It is because I do not reside in my mind but
in my heart. Whether someone is hitting me, cutting me open, or
showing tenderness I only feel love for them. Love is what I am. It is all
that I know.
Only another mermaid understands the limitlessness of my love. No
one fully knows that the ocean is my mother. I may travel to the stars but
I always return to Mama Sea. Always… I am her and she is me. We are
One at all times whether I am kissing her beaches or kept in a cage.
I do not like the east coast of the United States but I am in love with the
Atlantic ocean. I have never tasted a saltier ocean on planet earth and it
is positively delicious.
Hearing the sound of the waves and feeling the silky currents on my
skin can easily bring me to climax in every sense of the word. I hear
stories about the ferocity of tsunamis and the wildness of the sea but all I
have ever felt is tenderness even when I sought out these events in
person. During one of the hurricanes I went down to the beach front and
laid there and experienced the rain, the lightning, the ocean… the waves,
the turbulence… as if I were them.
When I had nothing else, the ocean loved me. It was my true self
loving itself. I feel the currents and tides in my blood physically and it
creates peculiar and ecstatic sensations in my skin. Water does have
memory on some level and I touch all of the ages of earth in one
moment. When I heal people I work with the water in their bodies
although I can also work with the light as many starseeds can do.
I require a higher intake of salt than anyone I know. I have always
eaten sea salt by the spoonful and mixed it into my drinking water. I love
everyone and everything. I cannot imagine being anything other than
kind and loving no matter what my circumstances are. If I were to tell
people how much I loved my bettas, fish, ocean family, and hermit crabs
I think people would be seriously concerned for my mental health.
Humans don't understand soul relationships like this. All of my
mermen (bettas), fish, crabs, and other aquatic co-creators in my life
have such deep soul and personality. I can’t believe that others don’t
even notice it.
 When I first got my hermit crab Nereida she came right up to me and
touched me with her adorable aura. She kept touching me with her legs-
gently-and stared deep into my soul. When I put her into a small plastic
container for transport she used her claws to draw designs and symbols
on the side of the container (the inside was humid so the designs could
be seen through the moisture) and I drew it out so I would remember.
When people ask me if I have ever stolen something… I technically
have to say yes. I stole thousands of dollars worth of lobsters from
outside of a restaurant and packed their crates into my vehicle and took
them back to the ocean. On the rare occasion I had money I would go
into farm fresh and other mainstream grocery stores and buy one or two
of the lobsters out of the water tanks they were kept in… then I would
set them free.
I have always felt like I have to hide my mermaid “side.” It truly isn’t a
side since I am fully what I am but to other people it is a “side” on the
surface because I only allow my starseedy part to show the most. It’s
easier that way although people can still sense what I am. I think that a
couple of people feel like they have to decide between their mermaid
and starseed aspects although they can be synonymous. Not everyone
who is a starseed is a mermaid… obviously. But a few mermaids are
starseeds. Oceanography is not just the study of water on earth but rather
the study of and exploration of water in all regions of the universe. This
is why I want my major to be a double one: marine biology
(oceanography) and astrophysics. They are one and the same to me.
Scientists state that water got to planet earth because it came from
outer space… it was preserved as possible ice and in meteorites (perhaps
through water producing organisms). I guess this is why I have never
full resonated with full blooded starseeds whose only memories are
evolving with other life forms. I left earth as a mermaid to help those
other planets because I was told to but it broke my heart to “leave” my
mermaid sisters in that way. Others did the same as me and I have been
gifted with the sweet reunion of one of them.
Before earth even formed I resided in the Pleiades which was why when
I left earth to go to the stars it was not my first time being somewhere
else (many mermaids actually existed in other worlds… but many don’t
remember yet… I remember a lot of them on Sirius) and I was a
mermaid there.
In every world I was in I was the water… there was this song I used to
sing with my mermaid sisters and it really encompasses all of who I am:
“I am the sea… I am the sky… I am the stars that shine.” One of the
mermaid sisters I reunited with in this life on planet earth even
remembers that song… we both shed many pent up tears when I wrote it
down in a message to her… it was profoundly healing for the both of us.
I have glossed over much of what has happened to me and only listed a
few happenings and events in my life. I think there are parts I do not
even entirely remember yet due to their highly violent nature and there
are plenty I left unmentioned.
I will leave to another essay my dream life. Each night I lucid dream
and assume another identity as an individual in another part of the
galaxy. It is hard to say at times which is more real to me—my life here
on earth or my life as a Pleiadian.
I also have an innate capacity to tame any kind of wild animal. I see
fairies, spirits of nature, every time I look out of the window or am out-
of-doors. And I have a variety of psychic abilities such as the ability to
locate children who are lost in the woods.
I will always reside in complete love towards humanity and all beings
of the universe. We are One. I feel your pain and I feel your joy. I will
absorb your darkness and fire into myself and return it with softness and
love. I am in all of you because Love is in Everything.