I Did Past-Life Regression Therapy and I *May* Have Been a 12th-Century Feminist Trailblazer

There’s a running joke in my family that my dad was a monk in a previous life (he’s huge into wine and genuinely enjoys listening to CDs of monks chanting). And when I think about my own past lives (something I do…OK, not very often, but I did give it some thought prior to writing this story), I imagine myself as a Viking warrior or Egyptian princess. Or perhaps a Gatsby-style speakeasy owner with a fabulous wardrobe.

What I did not envision, however, was how intertwined past selves and current selves would be, and how much the whole thing would end up feeling like traditional therapy. And yet, there I was, getting into my anxieties during a 90-minute session with past life regression therapist Ann Barham (which was an abbreviated version, by the way—they’re normally two and a half hours).

Wait, past life regression therapist? Yep, you read that right. Ann has been a licensed marriage and family therapist for over 20 years. Which essentially means she sits with clients and helps them determine who they were before this corporeal version, and what that means for their immediate psyche. 

Still with me? Past life therapy is based on the idea that we are all eternal beings who experience physical life on earth in a series of human bodies. And in these bodies, we unconsciously carry experiences, attitudes and relationship dynamics from throughout time into our current lives. Sometimes this is beneficial (like with a particular talent), and other times, this can be detrimental (once a neurotic, always a neurotic). The point is: Everybody’s got baggage.

At this point, you’re either rolling your eyes or wondering if your long-held suspicions that you were once Amelia Earhart were right all along. Where did I fall on the believer meter? Well, I guess somewhere in the middle. I like to think of myself as a fairly reasonable, logical person. But I do find something fascinating about “the other” and have on more than one occasion allowed my fortune to be told, gone on a ghost tour and undergone hypnosis. So, let’s just say that I don’t necessarily believe in this stuff but I also don’t not believe in it, if you know what I mean.

Heading into my Skype video session with Ann (she also does them in-person), I was definitely skeptical. In fact, I figured that she would spin me a few storylines about my former selves and I would have a funny story to tell my friends later. What I didn’t realize is that I would actually be doing most of the talking and that it would feel more like psychoanalysis than anything woo-woo. 

Here’s how it went down: We did a little prep work in advance: I answered simple questions like if I’d ever undergone hypnosis or if I meditate, and Ann asked me to send over any specific topics that I wanted to cover—say, a relationship or a phobia. Then on the day of our session, I followed Anne’s instructions and wore comfortable clothing, wasn’t overly hungry or tired and gave myself ten minutes to “come down” from the busyness of the day.

Once connected, we spent a few minutes chatting about what I wanted to achieve. (My answer: To talk about my life’s purpose and discover any hidden strengths or talents.) Ann placed me under light hypnosis and then transported me back in time by asking me questions like “look down at your feet—what do you see?” and “what do you notice around you?” Again, this wasn’t my first hypno rodeo and it wasn’t like I found myself in a deep trance or anything. Instead, I just felt ultra-relaxed and open—as if my mind was free to wander wherever it wanted. So much so, that when I looked down at my feet, I no longer saw my black ankle boots but instead saw a tanned, slightly muddy foot clad in a brown leather sandal. And instead of the four gray walls of my bedroom, I found myself in an ancient marketplace.

And that’s when the crazy part happened: I proceeded to tell her about my past life as a 17-year-old girl in Italy during the 12th century, where I was a feminist trailblazer who created a school for disadvantaged women. Yep, I was awesome. And OK, I’m pretty sure some of these details were taken straight out of a book that I’d recently read (The Burning Chambers by Kate Mosse—I recommend it), but I did find words tumbling out of my mouth that I never would have uttered in ordinary life. (“She’s moved by other people’s stories” and “A single decision can have a domino effect.”)

Not everyone has such a positive (or self-important) past, it’s worth noting. Ann later told me about one woman she worked with who was struggling to finish her dissertation. In her past life, she was a prisoner who had her hands chopped off—a pretty on-the-nose metaphor in my opinion.

But back to my radical path as a young girl in the Middle Ages. I was taught to read—something very unusual for women at that time—by my adoptive father. The fact that I was adopted was a family secret that I only discovered later. And later in life, I created a safe haven teaching literacy to underprivileged women. I married a dark-haired, blue-eyed man who “worked with swords” and had an adventurous and kind personality. (I know, I know—it’s basically the plot of a Disney movie.) I continued to teach and had two children before dying peacefully in my sleep, surrounded by loved ones. Hey, I was no Cleopatra but overall, not too shabby.

The next part of the session was even kookier. In order to gain spiritual guidance, Ann had me imagine a beautiful bright light, out of which emerged the sense of a very special and loving being who had known me across many lifetimes (Ann told me that this being could take any form—an angelic figure, a loved one who’s passed or just a color or energy). I was able to ask this guide specific questions like "should I keep trying to fix this broken relationship?" or "will I be a good mother?" The guide answered, telling me to to take a step back and let the person come to me, and that yes, I would be a wonderful mother.

Once out of the hypnosis, Ann and I spent some time talking about the session “to help normalize and integrate what came up.”

Some of the parallels were glaringly obvious. My past life husband was clearly my present life husband (the physical resemblance was spot-on and both men are/were of other nationalities). And the fact that I loved reading isn’t exactly surprising considering my current profession. So far, zero points for originality.

But it was interesting to see how delving into my past life brought up issues with which I’m currently struggling. Past me worked hard to juggle work and family—something that’s been on my mind now that I’m in my sixth month of pregnancy. And past me did some amazing altruistic work, something that I’ve been wanting to add to my own life for a while now. I also saw my deceased mother as my spiritual guide—someone whose counsel I’ve been missing extra hard recently. Again, none of this was particularly unexpected, but the session did give me the space to actually confront these demons.     

So, do I think a past life regression session can cure phobias or tell you what career you should have? Well, no. But as an interesting exercise to help uncover what’s bothering you or boost your confidence? Hell yeah.

Although truth be told, I am a little disappointed that I wasn’t an Egyptian princess or a distant cousin of Queen Elizabeth. Hey, maybe in my next life.