How Many Medium Readings Is Too Many?
Sometimes, in the middle of a session, a client will share that I’m not the first medium they’ve seen. In fact, sometimes I’m the fifth, sixth, or even tenth. And my heart always feels that. Not from a place of judgment—never. From a place of deep empathy. Because when you’ve lost someone you love, when your heart is cracked open and aching, of course you want to connect. Of course you want to hear they’re okay. That you’re going to be okay. Grief isn’t linear. It doesn’t follow a tidy checklist. It’s raw, disorienting, and deeply human.
I once sat with a mother who had lost her teenage son. Midway through the reading, she told me she’d already seen several other mediums in a row. I could feel how much she needed to hear from him, and then I felt him step forward with just a few simple words: “Mom, I’m okay.” There was an energetic eye roll that followed. Not unkind, just very him, according to her. That mix of love, presence, and “Please stop worrying, I’m good.” I knew that kind of energy. My own dad, now in spirit, was a champion eye-roller.
But the starting over? None of it is easy, no matter where you are in the journey. Like breathing, it’s something we all walk through in this life: love, loss, grief, and change. And while I never believe our loved ones tire of connecting with us (even if there’s a little eye rolling involved) Spirit is love, after all. I do believe part of their message is always this: Keep living. Keep loving. Keep going. They’re not asking us to forget. They’re not pushing us to move on. But they do want us to carry their memory into a life that still has beauty in it. A life that continues, even in the face of heartbreak.
As a medium, my job is to be the bridge. But as a human being, I also want to hold your grief with reverence. To say, I see you. I see how hard this is. I know what it’s like to miss someone so deeply it rearranges your whole world. That’s why the question, “How many sessions is too many?” isn’t a simple one to answer. For some, one session brings peace. Others come annually, on a birthday or anniversary, and that becomes a meaningful ritual. And some come back again and again in a short span of time, hoping for just one more message. One more sign. One more moment that feels like closeness.
So how many sessions is too many? I think the better question might be: What’s the intention behind the session? It’s okay not to know. It’s okay to want another reading. It’s okay to not be okay. Grief isn’t something we fix. And Spirit doesn’t come to fix us. They come to remind us that we’re not alone. That we’re still loved. And that we’re allowed to grow around our grief, not in spite of it.
If you’re feeling the weight of loss right now, please go easy on yourself. There’s no right way to grieve, no perfect timeline to follow. Talk to your person out loud. Write them a note like you used to. Light a candle. Take a walk and let the memories come as they will. Random, tender, sometimes funny, sometimes messy. And if or when you feel called to book another session, trust that your loved one already knows. They’re with you more than you realize. In the way you say something just like them. In the song that suddenly plays. In those quiet moments when your heart swells for no reason at all. It’s not the same as having them here in the physical, I know. But it’s still real. That connection doesn’t fade. Their energy is still showing up. Still cheering you on. Still loving you. They’re not missing a beat. Not one. And neither are you.
And if you ever find yourself wondering whether it’s time to reconnect through another reading, here are a few questions that might help guide you:
Have I had time to sit with and integrate what came through in my last session?
What would it feel like to connect with my loved one in my own way before scheduling again?
There’s no wrong answer, only what feels right in your heart. Spirit will always meet you there.