I’m Not Crazy—I'm Called
A soul remembrance. A sacred reclamation.
If you're sensitive… stay.
If you've ever known things you “shouldn’t” … stay.
If you’ve felt the moment someone left this world—before the call ever came—this is for you.
You are not crazy.
You are not cursed.
You are called.
I’ve spent most of my life carrying a gift the world didn’t know how to love.
A gift that let me see beneath—beneath people’s words, beneath the veil, beneath time.
As a child, I spoke to spirits like they were old friends. I’d dream of the future—sometimes beautiful, sometimes heartbreaking—and wake up with the weight of what hadn’t happened yet. I’d cry before the phone rang. I’d know before I was told.
But instead of being embraced, I was labeled.
Too emotional. Too dramatic. Too strange. And when I shared what I saw, I was locked away. told I was broken. Silenced....
I learned to bury my magic. To pretend I was “normal. "To survive.
But Spirit Waited
Gifts like this don’t go away—they wait for the right moment to return. (or never really go away!)
They whisper in dreams. They knock through grief flickered in the silence between breaths.
And mine came back loud.
Through clients who saw light during energy sessions. Through dreams that matched real-world events. Through spirits who stood beside me, unshakable and clear.
I stopped pushing it away the night I saw the spirit of a friend my husband had lost years before.
He had already passed, but his soul came to me—clear, insistent, and full of love.I saw him. Not just felt him—saw him.His presence filled the room with a message that needed to be spoken.
At first, I tried to push it down.But I couldn’t.His spirit wouldn’t leave until I honored what he came to say.
So I did.I told my husband—everything his friend showed me, everything he wanted to share.And when I did, I watched something shift.A peace settled in his heart. A softening. A knowing.A burden he hadn’t spoken out loud was suddenly lifted.
But it didn’t stop there.
A few days later, I saw my aunt.Her presence came through just as vividly—another spirit, another message, another sacred moment.
And that’s when fear set in.
It was all too much. Too fast. Too real.And the little girl in me—the one who had been told she was broken for seeing what others couldn’t—panicked.
I shut it down. Again....
Not because I wanted to dishonor them—but because I was scared. Scared of being “crazy." Scared that maybe everyone had been right about me all along.
But now… I know better.
His Grandmother sealed it.
When my husband’s grandmother was preparing to pass, I didn’t do anything “special. "
I just sat beside her, held her hand, and listened.
She looked at me, smiled, and said:
“Thank you for being a good girl.”
I know now: She saw me. The same way I saw her. Two souls speaking in the quiet.
At the time, I told myself it was just the Reiki. But now I understand: It was the truth of who I am meeting the truth of who she was.
I Don’t Call Myself a Medium—But I Am
Even now, I tread softly around the title. Not because I doubt myself—but because I respect it.
I’ve seen spirit since I was a child. I’ve felt death before it arrived. I’ve helped people meet themselves at the threshold and return to love.
I see what others miss I hear what goes unspoken. I feel the blueprint of someone’s soul—and I gently hand it back to them, like a map they forgot they had.
This gift isn’t just for the dying. It’s for the living.
I’ve helped clients remember their calling. I’ve watched people realign with the path they were born to walk. I’ve seen their purpose rise like a sunrise through the fog.
This is the work of a seer.
A soul mirror.
A sacred witness.
This isn’t easy—It’s Sacred
After one recent crossing, I spent days recovering.
I couldn’t work. I needed to rest, cry, breathe, and come home to myself.
Because being present with someone’s final moments—holding them in love as they release the body—is not just “a service.”
It’s ceremony. It’s priestess work. It’s holy.
And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I Am blessed.
I Am Favored.
I Am a Seer.
There was a time I thought I was cursed—that being able to see, hear, and feel this much was too heavy for one heart to hold.
But now I know better.
I was chosen. By spirit. By my ancestors. By the contract I made before I ever arrived here.
I am not cursed—I am trusted.
And I honor that trust with everything I am.
I’m not asking for permission anymore.
This isn’t something I do. It’s who I am.
I walk between worlds. I hold space for what is dying and what is ready to be born.
I sit beside the sacred and call it by name.
This is my work. This is my walk. This is my becoming.
A soul note to you!
If you’ve ever been told you were “too much” …
If you’ve ever cried without knowing why…
If you’ve ever known something before it was spoken…
Please hear me:
You are not broken. You are not crazy. You are gifted.
And that gift? It’s waiting to be honored.
You don’t have to be ready. You just have to say yes.
Because Spirit is already listening.
You don’t have to be ready. You just have to say yes.
Because Spirit is already listening!!!!!! (as I've mentioned already!)
And this gift? It’s not just about the dying. It’s about the living, too.
I’ve also helped people gain sight on the not-yet-born—those souls waiting to arrive earthside. The ones who show up in soft whispers, sacred symbols, and heart-pulls that only the mother (or father) can feel.
That part of my gift? It’s pure magic.
It’s gentle.
It’s joyful.
It always leaves me glowing—and no recovery time needed.
It’s love beginning.
And I get to witness that, too.
With love, fire, and full remembrance, Elizabeth Riger Igielski
Oneness is wholeness. 🕊️
🌀 If this truth spoke to you, trust that nudge.
🕯️ If you’re walking with grief or awakening to your own gifts, know this: I see you. I honor you. I welcome you.
💫 This is only the beginning.