How Alexina got here
I grew up in Nottinghamshire knowing something was there but not having a name for it. As a child I saw things I called imaginary friends. As a teenager I had a close relationship with my grandfather, and when he died just before my eighteenth birthday he kept showing up in dreams — clearly, with specific messages. I told myself it was just grief doing something interesting. Then I got on with life.
I spent my twenties building a modelling career, going through a divorce, trying to hold my family together during some genuinely hard years. Mental health runs through my family in ways I couldn't ignore — my uncle died by suicide, my sister struggled, and underneath all the momentum of a career that looked good from the outside, I was quietly falling apart. I'd been in talking therapy since I was eighteen and it had helped me, genuinely. But it stopped being enough. At around twenty-eight or twenty-nine, I hit a point I don't dress up: I was standing in the street and I nearly stepped in front of a bus. Someone pulled me back. That was the moment everything shifted.
I started meditating, first for release and then because something kept meeting me there. The visions became undeniable — a friend's pregnancy I'd seen months before it happened, a war starting three days after I received an image of it. In April 2023 I went into a three-hour meditation I couldn't come out of, and woke the next morning with no inner noise — just the world, clear and ordinary and completely new.
I worked with a trainer who told me the channeling felt like something I'd been doing for years. Maybe it had been. What I know is that all of it — the mental health history, the grief, the years of therapy, the skepticism — is exactly what I bring into this work now. I'm not above any of it. I still work in fashion. I still love ordinary human life. What I offer is a space where what hasn't shifted through words might finally have somewhere to go.
