A six-month stint as a telephone psychic left the author questioning their own motivations and the ethics of providing emotional support for a fee. Despite feeling unqualified to offer insights into people's lives, the author found themselves drawn into conversations with callers who were seeking guidance and comfort.
The pay was meager, £10-20 per hour, and the calls could be emotionally draining. The author had expected to feel guilty about pretending to be psychic, but in many cases, the caller's pain and loneliness resonated deeply. They began to sense the callers' fears, hopes, and desires, often finding themselves lost in their own emotions as they listened.
The industry has evolved since its early days of "Miss Cleo" ads, with more regulations in place. However, the author notes that even though the pay was low, some clients were willing to spend hundreds of pounds on psychic advice, indicating a desire for cheap, accessible guidance.
As the calls continued, the author found themselves becoming too attuned to their callers' pain and loneliness. They began to feel like they were tapping into an extremely dark wavelength of human need. The guilt and exhaustion of the job escalated, leading the author to reevaluate their role as a telephone psychic.
A particular call stands out – a woman seeking guidance on whether she would get pregnant this month. The author's response was vague but kind, and while it helped alleviate her worry, it also left them feeling uncertain about their own motivations. They realized that they were not doing the right thing by providing emotional support for a fee.
The experience has had lasting effects on the author, who went on to have three children and eventually published a novel about a toxic friendship between a webcam psychic and a client. The work has explored the fine lines between charisma, empathy, and fraud, reflecting on their own experiences as a telephone psychic.
In the end, the author came to understand that their time as a telephone psychic was not a grift but a small, morally complex act of service – one that left them questioning their own motivations and the ethics of providing emotional support for a fee.
The pay was meager, £10-20 per hour, and the calls could be emotionally draining. The author had expected to feel guilty about pretending to be psychic, but in many cases, the caller's pain and loneliness resonated deeply. They began to sense the callers' fears, hopes, and desires, often finding themselves lost in their own emotions as they listened.
The industry has evolved since its early days of "Miss Cleo" ads, with more regulations in place. However, the author notes that even though the pay was low, some clients were willing to spend hundreds of pounds on psychic advice, indicating a desire for cheap, accessible guidance.
As the calls continued, the author found themselves becoming too attuned to their callers' pain and loneliness. They began to feel like they were tapping into an extremely dark wavelength of human need. The guilt and exhaustion of the job escalated, leading the author to reevaluate their role as a telephone psychic.
A particular call stands out – a woman seeking guidance on whether she would get pregnant this month. The author's response was vague but kind, and while it helped alleviate her worry, it also left them feeling uncertain about their own motivations. They realized that they were not doing the right thing by providing emotional support for a fee.
The experience has had lasting effects on the author, who went on to have three children and eventually published a novel about a toxic friendship between a webcam psychic and a client. The work has explored the fine lines between charisma, empathy, and fraud, reflecting on their own experiences as a telephone psychic.
In the end, the author came to understand that their time as a telephone psychic was not a grift but a small, morally complex act of service – one that left them questioning their own motivations and the ethics of providing emotional support for a fee.