All my life, people seemed... familiar to me. People I had no way of knowing would feel like they were my best friends, and I was incredibly good at guessing peoples names.
One day, me and my mom were out for groceries. I was maybe around 4? 5? years old, I don't remember exactly. My mother went to go look for something in a different aisle, and I waited by our shopping cart, loaded with groceries. An older lady stopped by me and began speaking to me.
"Hello there, litte girl. What's your name? Where's your mama?" "My mom is grabbing eggs" I replied "and I'm Rebecca." The lady smiled at me and continued asking about my life. "How old are you? Are you in school yet?" "I'm 4, but not in school. I used to be, but then I left my other mommy for this one." The lady seemed confused, and just as she was about to ask me something else, my mom returned. "Hello there, who are you? I hope Emily isn't bothering you too much." "Anne." The lady looked shocked as she turned around to face me again. "What did you say?" "Your name. It's Anne. And my name is Rebecca" I turned to my mom. "Not Emily." "H- How did you know my name? I didn't tell you." She got pale and looked at my mom, seemingly disturbed.
"I'm so sorry, ma'am. Emily is always bothering people with her stupid jokes." My mom explained to the lady. "She insists that her name is Rebecca, though I don't know why. She says she was Rebecca but had to leave her other mother. She has a... rich fanatsy, so to say." "No, you don't get it. My name is Anne. She was right. She guessed my name."
Both my mom and the lady, Anne, turned to look at me. "What? She is my aunt. I know her name." The lady got even whiter, even though that seemed impossible, and she spoke quietly. "My niece. My sisters daughter. She was named Rebecca. She passed from leukemia just over 4 years ago."
My mom seemed shocked. Anne continued softly: "She was the light of my life. It was as if she was my own daughter. She was only fifteen when she departed. Didn't even get to finish high school."
​
This was the first time. Or well, the first time I remember knowing so much about someone I had never met before. My mom says that once, when I was even younger, I guessed the name of my fathers friend which he hadn't seen in years. But there were many more encounters where I guessed someones name, or I could tell their lifestory so detailed that they accused me of stalkig them. For years, I insisted my name was Rebecca. only when I turned 10, I started to accept my new name, Emily. Inside, I knew I was Rebecca. But accepting this new name was a lot easier than convincing every teacher, coach and substitute that my name wasn't Emily Smith, but Rebecca Goldfinch.
This 'delusion', as my parents called it, forced me to visit many therapists over the years. One even thought I was scizophrenic, or had a multiple personality disorder.
But when I was fourteen, I started to feel different. For one because I finally made a friend, who accepted me as Rebecca, and believed me when I told her about my old mother. Her name was Kenzie, she said, and she told me something about her. She was Kenzie, but everyone called her Brittney, just like how I was called Emily by everyone surrounding me. This made us close, and it made us feel less alone in this world where no one believed who we really were. Kenzie also made me calm. She had an 'old soul', according to the grownups. Her presence was so calming, reassuring, that it almost felt... maternal. This was the reason I was drawn to her from the moment I met her.
The second reason, which made me scared instead of calm, was the fear I felt when looking at the calender. I had no specific reason for this, but every time I looked at one certain date, it made my heart sink inside my chest. November 21st. My birthday. I dreaded that day. The closer it got, the more I started to sink inside that hole that my heart formed, and the more I slipped away from my loved ones. The only one that could still reach me was Kenzie.
But Kenzie told me something about that day. She told me that that day is horrible for her. All she can do that day is cry, and grieve an immense loss she suffered. And finally, she explained where she thought our connection came from.
"Okay. It's almost november, so I think we should talk about this. I think I was reborn. I am called Brittney by my mom, but that isn't me. I'm Kenzie. You know, like how you are Rebecca. Well, Kenzie was the name my last mom gave me. I know it sounds weird, but I was born before. April 13, 1948 was my birthday, and I was named Kenzie Goldfinch." "Goldfinch?" I asked. "But.. that's my name. I don't-" "Let me finish. I was the lastborn, my mom passed in childbirth and my family blamed me. My family existed of my dad, sister and brother. My siblings were called Anne and Robert."
"Anne.. like.. the lady from the supermarket" I asked, recalling the time I told Kenzie about the weird story. "Exactly. She was my sister." It dawned on me. Kenzie was my mother. My old mother. "Wait. How would you know that? We don't know what happens after death. And even if we did, you wouldn't be able to prove it. I mean, sure, it sounds great, but-" "Stop." Kenzie cut of my rant. "I went to a spiritual guru. I know it sounds fake, but they really helped me. I figured out I was your mom a while ago, but I didn't know how to tell you. But I think it's time. November 21st was the day you died. You were my only child, and your death paralysed me. I couldn't think straight anymore, and a few days later, I decided I couldn't live with the pain anymore."
I was quiet. November 21st. My birthday. The day I died. My fifteenth death anniversary. Kenzie gave me a hug. "I understand it is a lot to process. Just call me when you are ready to talk." She started to leave.
"Wait" I said, looking at her. "What is you birthday?" "November 24th"
That is how I figured out that I was reincarnated, as was Kenzie. But we seemed to be the only people aware of the fact that death isn't the end. I once asked my mom, and she shut me down with something along the lines of 'dead is dead. Ain't no point thinking about it.'
Now, I am 30 years old. My birthday is still a hard day for me, even 15 years after finding out why. I have a lovely wife and two wonderful kids, but they don't seem to understand why I never want to celebrate. I once told my wife, and she just said she'd try to be more understanding, but I could tell she couldn't relate to what I told her. And I don't blame her.
Me and Kenzie are still best friends, although she has taken on a more motherly role in my life since that one night. She is also married, to a great guy, who does have the same experience. They found out, with the help of the guru, that they used to be neighbours in their past life. He apparently had moved away for educational oppurtunities, but had gotten sick and died around a year and a half before me and Kenzie did. He turned 32 this june, and everyone calls him Nick, short for Nicholas, even though he was named Pete by his mom. Kenzie also goes through life as Kenzie now, instead of Brittney. Both of them even changed their legal names.
I am Emily. After my fifteenth birthday, it felt like Rebecca was gone. Probably because that's how old she was when she died. I even ran into Anne again, in the same supermarket as when I was young. She didn't recognise me at first, but I told her who I was, and she invited me over for a cup of coffee. I asked to bring Kenzie, after explaining our relation, and the three of us had a lovely afternoon. It was almost like we were... family.
PotatoCheeseChip t1_itmxywz wrote
Reply to [WP] The reason we don't remember our previous reincarnations is because most past lives in the pre industrial era were short affairs that often ended before the child even made it to 5, making storing memories frankly a huge waste of time. Now things are changing, people are starting to remember by PotentialSmell
All my life, people seemed... familiar to me. People I had no way of knowing would feel like they were my best friends, and I was incredibly good at guessing peoples names.
One day, me and my mom were out for groceries. I was maybe around 4? 5? years old, I don't remember exactly. My mother went to go look for something in a different aisle, and I waited by our shopping cart, loaded with groceries. An older lady stopped by me and began speaking to me.
"Hello there, litte girl. What's your name? Where's your mama?" "My mom is grabbing eggs" I replied "and I'm Rebecca." The lady smiled at me and continued asking about my life. "How old are you? Are you in school yet?" "I'm 4, but not in school. I used to be, but then I left my other mommy for this one." The lady seemed confused, and just as she was about to ask me something else, my mom returned. "Hello there, who are you? I hope Emily isn't bothering you too much." "Anne." The lady looked shocked as she turned around to face me again. "What did you say?" "Your name. It's Anne. And my name is Rebecca" I turned to my mom. "Not Emily." "H- How did you know my name? I didn't tell you." She got pale and looked at my mom, seemingly disturbed.
"I'm so sorry, ma'am. Emily is always bothering people with her stupid jokes." My mom explained to the lady. "She insists that her name is Rebecca, though I don't know why. She says she was Rebecca but had to leave her other mother. She has a... rich fanatsy, so to say." "No, you don't get it. My name is Anne. She was right. She guessed my name."
Both my mom and the lady, Anne, turned to look at me. "What? She is my aunt. I know her name." The lady got even whiter, even though that seemed impossible, and she spoke quietly. "My niece. My sisters daughter. She was named Rebecca. She passed from leukemia just over 4 years ago."
My mom seemed shocked. Anne continued softly: "She was the light of my life. It was as if she was my own daughter. She was only fifteen when she departed. Didn't even get to finish high school."
​
This was the first time. Or well, the first time I remember knowing so much about someone I had never met before. My mom says that once, when I was even younger, I guessed the name of my fathers friend which he hadn't seen in years. But there were many more encounters where I guessed someones name, or I could tell their lifestory so detailed that they accused me of stalkig them. For years, I insisted my name was Rebecca. only when I turned 10, I started to accept my new name, Emily. Inside, I knew I was Rebecca. But accepting this new name was a lot easier than convincing every teacher, coach and substitute that my name wasn't Emily Smith, but Rebecca Goldfinch.
This 'delusion', as my parents called it, forced me to visit many therapists over the years. One even thought I was scizophrenic, or had a multiple personality disorder.
But when I was fourteen, I started to feel different. For one because I finally made a friend, who accepted me as Rebecca, and believed me when I told her about my old mother. Her name was Kenzie, she said, and she told me something about her. She was Kenzie, but everyone called her Brittney, just like how I was called Emily by everyone surrounding me. This made us close, and it made us feel less alone in this world where no one believed who we really were. Kenzie also made me calm. She had an 'old soul', according to the grownups. Her presence was so calming, reassuring, that it almost felt... maternal. This was the reason I was drawn to her from the moment I met her.
The second reason, which made me scared instead of calm, was the fear I felt when looking at the calender. I had no specific reason for this, but every time I looked at one certain date, it made my heart sink inside my chest. November 21st. My birthday. I dreaded that day. The closer it got, the more I started to sink inside that hole that my heart formed, and the more I slipped away from my loved ones. The only one that could still reach me was Kenzie.
But Kenzie told me something about that day. She told me that that day is horrible for her. All she can do that day is cry, and grieve an immense loss she suffered. And finally, she explained where she thought our connection came from.
"Okay. It's almost november, so I think we should talk about this. I think I was reborn. I am called Brittney by my mom, but that isn't me. I'm Kenzie. You know, like how you are Rebecca. Well, Kenzie was the name my last mom gave me. I know it sounds weird, but I was born before. April 13, 1948 was my birthday, and I was named Kenzie Goldfinch." "Goldfinch?" I asked. "But.. that's my name. I don't-" "Let me finish. I was the lastborn, my mom passed in childbirth and my family blamed me. My family existed of my dad, sister and brother. My siblings were called Anne and Robert."
"Anne.. like.. the lady from the supermarket" I asked, recalling the time I told Kenzie about the weird story. "Exactly. She was my sister." It dawned on me. Kenzie was my mother. My old mother. "Wait. How would you know that? We don't know what happens after death. And even if we did, you wouldn't be able to prove it. I mean, sure, it sounds great, but-" "Stop." Kenzie cut of my rant. "I went to a spiritual guru. I know it sounds fake, but they really helped me. I figured out I was your mom a while ago, but I didn't know how to tell you. But I think it's time. November 21st was the day you died. You were my only child, and your death paralysed me. I couldn't think straight anymore, and a few days later, I decided I couldn't live with the pain anymore."
I was quiet. November 21st. My birthday. The day I died. My fifteenth death anniversary. Kenzie gave me a hug. "I understand it is a lot to process. Just call me when you are ready to talk." She started to leave.
"Wait" I said, looking at her. "What is you birthday?" "November 24th"
That is how I figured out that I was reincarnated, as was Kenzie. But we seemed to be the only people aware of the fact that death isn't the end. I once asked my mom, and she shut me down with something along the lines of 'dead is dead. Ain't no point thinking about it.'
Now, I am 30 years old. My birthday is still a hard day for me, even 15 years after finding out why. I have a lovely wife and two wonderful kids, but they don't seem to understand why I never want to celebrate. I once told my wife, and she just said she'd try to be more understanding, but I could tell she couldn't relate to what I told her. And I don't blame her.
Me and Kenzie are still best friends, although she has taken on a more motherly role in my life since that one night. She is also married, to a great guy, who does have the same experience. They found out, with the help of the guru, that they used to be neighbours in their past life. He apparently had moved away for educational oppurtunities, but had gotten sick and died around a year and a half before me and Kenzie did. He turned 32 this june, and everyone calls him Nick, short for Nicholas, even though he was named Pete by his mom. Kenzie also goes through life as Kenzie now, instead of Brittney. Both of them even changed their legal names.
I am Emily. After my fifteenth birthday, it felt like Rebecca was gone. Probably because that's how old she was when she died. I even ran into Anne again, in the same supermarket as when I was young. She didn't recognise me at first, but I told her who I was, and she invited me over for a cup of coffee. I asked to bring Kenzie, after explaining our relation, and the three of us had a lovely afternoon. It was almost like we were... family.