Parents and Other People Are Sharing Stories of Experiencing Their Past Lives

Okay, this isn't necessarily reincarnation, but please bear with me. I'm not religious in the slightest, but this continues to freak me out. I became pregnant 7 years ago, and when I was 17 weeks along, before the anatomy ultrasound, I had the weirdest fucking dream.

I dreamt I found myself with a bunch of other people walking along the perimeter of one of those giant, castle-style wooden playgrounds. There were tons of children running around everywhere, and I stopped for a few to watch, right at one of the entrances to the playground itself.

There was a child who caught my eye. She was like a little ball of light and energy, running around, long darkish-blonde hair whipping behind her, as she chased kids down in a giant game of tag. Our eyes met as she turned around, and she stopped.

She smiled. She ran over, threw her arms around my waist, looked up with these giant blue eyes and said "Hi, my name is *her full name*, but call me *nickname*. Then I woke up. It was burned into my mind like a memory instead of a dream.

Gave birth to a little girl who looks, sounds, and acts just like that child. Gave birth to her brother a little more than two years later. 18 months after that, found myself pregnant again, but miscarried just before 12 weeks. I hadn't told my children that I was pregnant yet.

Around the time I would have been due with child number 3, we flew across the country to visit my parents. On the plane my daughter (then 4) looks at me and says "I miss my sister." I reminded her that she only has a brother, but she insisted and continued. "I miss holding my baby sister's hand in the car while we drive.

I miss the baby's smile. I miss my baby sister, I want her back!" She still didn't know about the miscarriage. I asked if maybe she was thinking about sitting next to her brother's carseat, but she made it clear that the baby was between her and her brother's carseats.

She woke up for nearly 6 months afterward, crying for her little sister. At nearly 7, she still sometimes looks at me and mentions this baby sister, and cries wondering why they met but unable to understand why they can't be together.

Username: ElleighJae

Let me explain that I consider myself rational and am, for all intents and purposes, more towards science and logic than faith or the supernatural. That said, I have no explanation for this following other than it is what I experienced. I’ll do my best to summarize it.

I’m four or under (I have a brother that’s four years younger than me and he wasn’t born yet) and I’m spending the night at my grandparents’ house. They are staying up late to watch the Olympics but the plus-side to that is that I get to sleep in their bed; normally, I would sleep in my dad’s old bedroom.

I am having trouble falling asleep (a common occurrence; I never slept well) but seeing the light of the tv from the other room is calming. Suddenly, I feel cold. I don’t feel scared but my body gets the shivers.

A new light is in the room and it is to my right. Scared, I slowly begin to turn and, at the side of the bed, is an older woman. She is translucent and has a slight blue tint. She is not scary but her presence is. She is sitting in the rocking chair, holding a small dog, and looking right at me.

I immediately go under the blankets. I’m scared and I turn to the other side of the bed. My eyes are slammed shut. I stay like this for what feels like an eternity until, still under the blankets, I open my eyes. A new color is outside of the blankets; a warm orange replaces the light blue.

Like a fool, I begin the peek out of the blankets and, at the other side of the bed, there are men on fire. They are just standing there but they are burning. I turn around in bed and the woman is there but now she is standing. Her mouth doesn’t move but, in my head, I hear a voice say, “they aren’t there. They can’t hurt anymore,” and, at that point, I don’t remember anything else.

The next morning, I didn’t get out of bed until my parents arrived. It took a lot of coaxing but, eventually, I am able to tell my parents my nightmare. They are amused by a child’s imagination.

As a lark, my dad tells his parents. My grandfather, a cold and stoic man, almost passes out. When he comes to, he is crying and nonverbal. When he eventually calms down, he tells my father that, when he got back from Vietnam, he would lie in bed and suffer from panic attacks.

His mother would stand over him and calm him as he relived his days as a soldier manning a flamethrower. While he slept, she would sit in the rocking chair and make sure he rested.

To this day, I have no explanation for it. I don’t know why I saw his memory. I have no real supernatural experience other than this but it is burned into my brain forever.

Username: classroomcomedian

I was the kid. Raised by a single mother, with no TV in the house, never left at daycare, no babysitters, no relatives. I was a very sheltered kid raised by a borderline hippie mom, very peace-loving, no violent images or discussions of any kind. I wasn't a morbid kid, didn't have a fascination with violence or darkness. Also, never abused. So:

How come I came awake terrified and shaking from a dream where someone I knew was slitting open my cheeks from both corners of my mouth with scissors? I didn't know the "Glasgow smile" was a thing until my 20s.

I also saw some shadows on the wall one night (the above was a dream - this I was awake for) and became utterly terrified and hid, because I had a deep inner sense of knowing that men were coming to kill us and burn down all the houses including ours. This was a theme of many easily triggered fears; fire terrified me, and the fear wasn't of it burning me: it was of being tortured and having family members die and my house burned down.

I was young enough that I don't have any other memories from back then; my earliest active memories are from about age 5-6 but these are before that.

As an adult, I saw that fear of fire as absurd and desensitized myself to it to where I've handled all sorts of fires including my car catching fire with me and my mom in it calmly, and I don't have nightmares about fire any more.

But getting myself to lose those fears was a process similar to recovering from an actual trauma. Either I had a disturbed little-kid brain or I had a very torture-and-fire-filled past live (lives?).

Username: DistinctionJewelry

Not sure if this applies. But I have snippets of a past life that come up from time to time. Ever since I was little boy, I remember being a young girl in the "before times." There are vivid, stark, clear memories that surface, sometimes adding a piece to the puzzle. Three memories stand out that I have had since I was little.

The first is I am standing in front of a hallway mirror in a child's nightdress, looking at myself. I am carrying a stuffed animal. I am studying how I look in the dim light. I believe I am at my grandmother's apartment. I had dark eyes, wavy messy hair, like loose tresses a little girl has when waking up. I am probably about 4-6 years old.

Another one, I am sitting in front of a console TV, same apartment, watching ballerinas in black and white. The decor in the living room is a mix of early 1960s chic and old world European. There is an old clock over the mantle.

There's white shag carpet on the floor. I get the feeling mama and papa are away a lot. They are being followed by people, people who want to hurt them, so I stay with grandma a lot. Something to do with politics or a resistance.

The third is I am wearing a green peacoat, a straw hat with a ribbon, and white gloves. I am six, and holding my mother's hand at a train station surrounded by tall, snowcapped mountains. The platform is outdoors, with a lot of surrounding brickwork and a station clock.

It's very busy and crowded. I'd place the surroundings as mid 1960s, somewhere in the European Alps, like France, Switzerland, or Italy. I speak French and English. French to my mama, but can read in English. The train is coming. It's big, silver, and modern.

As the huge train pulls into the station, I am SHOVED from behind right in front of the train. I don't remember the pain of it hitting me, but know it did, and my last thoughts were in English, "HE PUSHED ME!" I scream it in my head, almost like an apology.

The last one comes up a lot in dreams. I was born in 1968, in the Mediterranean, so I believe this was a past life right before, or a few years before. I don't speak French, my parents certainly didn't speak any French, but I feel... Drawn to the language. Like I once knew it ages ago.

Username: punkwalrus

I'm not the parent, but I'm this child. I very well remember when I was 2 years old, I suddenly shouted - This is not my home! You are not my parents! I want to go home! To my planet! - And until I was 7 years old, I drew a tornado that takes me away from home.

Also around 2 age, I had a dream about pale woman in white dress, who was beating on window of my room and shouting, that she would take me anyway. And at 3 age, I dreamed of white hall, there were people in black around, and I was forced to choose my punishment in order to be born.

I remember exactly how I didn't want to be born, and I sabotaged my birth several times. I do not know where I got such a realistic memory, but I literally know, that I was born in family, I think it was Thailand, and I was so upset that I was born. that was crying on purpose.

I cried for 3 days without stopping, my parents went crazy about it, and I cried until I suffocated. And after that, I was back in that hall, and they decided to toughen my punishment.

I am often told, that children do not remember until they are 3 years old. But I remember some events when I was in mother's stomach, and how I was brought home after giving birth. At age of 6, I somehow decided that I have a sister, who very much loves me, and wants to help me, and she is very sad that she can't.

Her name was Katherine-Alice. I thought that's what I feel like as a woman, and I probably really liked Alice in Wonderland, which is why I remember it so well. Around 20 age, I found a folder with medical records, and it said that my mother had an abortion, but my grandparents didn't know about it. But they said, that my mother really wanted a girl, and called her Catherine-Alex.

At the age of 8, I dreamed, that I was being burned at stake, and the crowd was laughing at me. And everyone shouted - Victoria deserved it! Suffer, bitch! - I had no idea that such things happen. In summer of that year, I was taken to visit my cousin, and in evening there was a big bonfire.

I was looking into fire, and I felt like I was burning, and I felt like my skin was turning black, and I threw up and fainted. And when I fainted, I dreamed, that I was at bottom of a river, and couldn't move. I woke up in morning, and adults said, I had heatstroke and I was fine. It's funny, but I'm terribly afraid of drowning, and fire makes me sick. I even associate aura attacks with a burning candle and a stigma on my forehead.

In adulthood, at site of each of my injuries appeared three moles, and after chickenpox I have a mark on my forehead, like a "third eye". Because of this, my fanatical relatives believed, that I was possessed by evil forces and that I was the chosen one. I could not know about this anywhere, because from an early age I saw only good Disney cartoons.

It was strange. I'm 27, but I still feel that way. And I don't believe in the supernatural. And I think I felt very very early on uncomfortable in my family. But I've been plagued by misfortune all my life. If I am happy, it will end in a terrible way.

People often don't believe me, that so much shit can happen to one person. But the worst thing, is that even if I'm being punished, I don't know why. This is probably a very sadistic form of punishment.

I think, that visions are probably a reduced genetic memory, that we inherited from our ancient animal ancestors. Since children during formation of fetus, have atavisms, that will disappear after, these are consequences of genetic memories, that are mixed with consciousness, and can be randomly activated.

Username: [deleted]

When my daughter was about two-and-a-half, she said to me "I love you more than my other mommy." Thinking she was talking about her father's new mistress that I had very recently found out about and kicked his cheating ass out/began divorce proceedings over, I said, "I am your *only* mommy. [Trash] is not your mommy."

She said, "No, not her, my *other* mommy, the one *before* you. She died."
"How did she die?" I said, trying to be calm.
"Her mommy made her die. She hurt her a lot put her in a room and didn't give her enough food, so she died."

Now, my daughter has always been well-spoken, very verbal (she could talk at 9 months, but didn't walk until 16 months; she literally could count to TWELVE before she could walk as many steps) but I don't recall ever having made a connection between not eating enough and death, so this threw me for a loop.

In fact, the subject of death had not ever come up prior to that, and I asked around about maybe daycare saying "eat or you'll starve to death" or something. Nope.

I am still under the impression it was just a fluke, maybe mixing up words. But there are things that she says that make me think she has done this before. Words.

She will be five this month, and she says things that an old person would say. Her vocabulary is extensive and at times anachronistic. But I'm probably just reading way too far into it.

Username: Happy_Fun_Balll

When my brother was two he asked for a Russian tutor and quickly learned the Russian alphabet and studied the language all through school, eventually moving there for a few years and marrying a Russian girl. In high school he ran to my mom and said ‘I heard a voice coming from the corner of the room calling “Alexander Ulyanov”— what does it mean, mom?’

Around this time— age 15– he put a little photo of Lenin on the Christmas tree and next to it a snowman with a pipe cleaner wound around it’s neck to look like a noose and he said “this is my brother (the photo of Lenin), and this is me (the snowman with a noose around his neck).”

Later he researched the name and found out Alexander Ulyanov was Vladimir Lenin’s older brother who was hung by the czar after he and his friends planted a homemade pipe bomb in the palace as a prank, following the death of his father who was believed to have been poisoned by the czar.

His death inspired younger brother Lenin to become a revolutionary as well, trying to create equality for working people and bring Russia out of feudalism, until being poisoned by Stalin.
So the rest is history, as they say.

My brother would go to Russia every summer in college, and he found Alexander’s cell which he sat in on the anniversary of his execution at age twenty-one. My brother was that same age or might’ve been a year or two younger.

Even now when I show a photo of Alexander Ulyanov to anyone who’s met my brother they say they look like the same person. My brother now says he doesn’t remember any of that. But my mom and I certainly remember!

He even changed his middle name to the Russian spelling of Alexandre when he was still in high school (his given middle name was Abraham).

Past lives are real! This is not a joke. It actually brings tears to my eyes to think about this. I’m in my forties. This happened many years ago. Recently I bought a book fir my mother called Comet in the Sky, made up of writings about Alexandre by his mom, sister, and friends.

It honestly sounded just like my older brother who is very serious minded, bright, funny, kind, quite, and moral. He’s a very unique person, wise, opinionated, stubborn, and exasperating like an old man. We love him dearly.

Username: One-Security-5820

I had a friend once who described her... abilities. She physically felt her grandfather having, and possibly dying I can’t remember, from a heart attack. She was a kid at the time and started having extreme chest pains, as she described, to the point that her mother was rushing her into the car to go to the hospital.

Suddenly they stopped, and thinking it was a false alarm, went back in the house. Not long after they received a phone call about the incident with her grandfather.

Another one she told me did have to do with a kid. She was, and likely still is, very active in pagan communities. A friend of hers asked for her help, the friend being aware of the odd incidences in her life, to help with her toddler who was very unhappy. She was put in front of the kid while he was sleeping, and said “I feel like I wanna do this,” then hooked her thumbs into the top of her pants.

The mother of the toddler told my friend that he would do this constantly. She described her unconscious feelings on the child’s behaviour, describing him as “an old fashioned kind of guy.”

He needed to be asked to do a lot of daily activities and be included in decision making, including with the mother’s then boyfriend who hadn’t asked to date the kid’s mom. Once that was figured out a lot of their troubles with stubbornness from the kid totally disappeared.

I have no idea what she had, whether psychic or just very attuned to body language, but she often decided not to tell anyone before she knew if they were cool so she wouldn’t be pulled around by people wanting them to fix their “spiritual problems.” I honestly don’t blame her.

Username: Ultra-Cyborg

Not really a memory, but i used to have a very vivid reoccurring dream as a kid ( i still get it from time to time). I never could make sense of it, but now i’m reading these stories i’m so freaked out.

Like where did i even get this from in the first place, is this actually a memory from my past life? I didn’t know stories like the ones here are so common and it really makes me wonder.

In the dream someone calls me on a landline phone -which I obviously don’t have- and i have to leave quickly for some kind of emergency. I never remember who calls or what the emergency was. But i always end up at a loss because I don’t know how to get there fast enough.

Then i take my keys and run to the car. It’s a 50’s type of car, dark red/brown. The car is weird because it’s not really mine but at the same time it’s nobody else’s and i have the key in my jacket.

Whenever i get in, my chest feels too tight, and i think to myself that “I don’t want to drive the car, I don’t have a driving license and I haven’t practiced in a while”, but even so i seem to know the car perfectly and I don’t know how else to get there.

It’s a bit rusty but i know exactly how to start it smoothly, like i’ve driven this particular car so many times before and i just know it, like the car’s “character” so to speak. The sensation is unreal.

I have to hurry to “go help fast”. I speed a couple of times. And i always ALWAYS take exactly the same road. I feel uncomfortable because it’s the first time i’m taking this route and it seems dangerous so i’ve always avoided it, but now I don’t have the time. It’s a winding road going up and down around a mountain with dark orange/red stone.

Then there is a curve up ahead with no guardrail. I can see a city further ahead, down below. And i just think to myself “oh, it’s *this* cliff. Now i remember.” Even though it’s my first time taking that road, and “Too bad that i’m going to die here, i was so close, too. I hope they’ll be okay without me.” I try to slow down still but since i was racing to get there and could only see how sharp the turn actually is after it’s too late, i run the car down the cliff.

The sensation of being stuck in a heavy vehicle, falling in a metal deathbox, clutching the wheel instinctively as if wanting to literally hold on to dear life. Holding my breath in fear, freezing up, wanting to close my eyes but being unable to.

The way i *know* the sensation of the impact when hitting the ground, how my insides will collapse when the car hits the ground, how my body will instantly shut down before i can process how much it hurts and how for just a second i will realise everything is numb and i am dead before it goes black. It’s all too real.

And you know what’s the strangest? I’ve had this dream since as long as i can remember. I also know absolutely nothing about cars and still don’t have my license. Neither did my mum until i was 15yo and we always used to travel by train or bus.

I also live in a very “flat” country with no mountains and hills. No redish stone anywhere closeby. I grew up very poor and also never traveled when i was a kid. I also wasn’t allowed to watch anything but a local tv channel for kids, so nowhere i could have remembered this place from. Let alone the car.

And now, 25 yo at this point, i still have such an irrational fear of cars and don’t want to get my drivers license because ever since i was a kid, i believed so strongly that i would cause an accident, for no apparent reason.

Really, the more i think about it, the stranger it gets. I also grew up believing that i’m not afraid of death from falling, because i know what it feels like already and it doesn’t hurt that much, it’s just very scary to know you are going to die. Anyway, sorry for the long post, I guess i needed to get it out.

Username: ImaBananaPie_

My daughter, around 3 at the time, said, "In our last life YOU were the mommy and I was the daddy." I had never spoken about past lives or reincarnation around her. I tried to ask her questions but she didn't have anything else to say on the subject. Myself, I can remember several past lives.

As a native boy, being taught in a one room schoolhouse by a white teenage girl along with other children, when several white men broke down the door and shot all the indian kids in the back, as well as the teenage girl (for having the audacity to teach 'savages') and so I remember the numbness and pain as I died.

As a prisoner of war, escaping some kind of prison camp, and a guard spotted me and shot me in the back (yay, must be my favorite way to die). As a teen in this life, I had a best friend whom I told about my past life (this particular one), and he stopped me and said, " I remember my past life as a guard who shot someone escaping in the back". I told him I forgave him. We eventually stopped hanging out.

As a woman in the UK who drowned in a river. I remember my name was a variant on my current male name. Also, my husband in that life, his name was Saul.

My current life daughter, who told me she was the daddy and I was the mummy, her name is Sol. (the first part of her name is, but I will leave it at that.) Several more but those are the strongest past life memories.

PS, I had a fascination with the Union Jack and all things Brit as I grew up, having tea at 3pm, eating scones, flat caps, etc. but I only started recalling the past life as a British woman after I was in my late teens...

PPS, I have a mark on my back that looks like a gunshot wound. And chronic lung problems.
Username: LurkerPro66

When I was around 12-14 I randomly got a ”memory” of dying in a desert. I remember the ground clearly and knew that I died with my best friend. The next part of the memory was being in a waiting room and looking out of a large window.

Outside I could see stars, as if we were in space. I told my mother about this and she told me that I had told her the same story when I was five and my mother was pregnant with my sister. She told me that I had also remembered pleading with someone to be reborn with my best friend, who had also died. I had told my mother that I thought my friend would be reborn as my sister.

Another time, also some time in my teens, I had a ”memory” of dying in the forest. This experience was different - I suddenly got very clear images of the event and it almost felt as if it was happening right then and there. I wrote down what I experienced, but I have lost the note.

I was with a friend in a tent with a flashlight tied to the top of the tent. I remembered her face very clearly. Then we were suddenly being chased in the forest. My friend fell into a large hole and I saw her lying dead at the bottom of it, with her eyes open.

I did not remember anything more, but I assumed that I fell in as well. My grandmother has told me that I told her that I had visited a specific place before ”when I was a little bird”.

I think these stories are very interesting and the two that I remember myself feel very valuable to me. However, I don’t think that they are really memories of past lives. I think it’s my brain’s way of trying to tell me something.

The fact that both stories that I remember myself were of me dying with a friend makes it seem more likely that there is some kind of message that my brain is trying to pass on to my conscious mind.

Username: Citrongrot

My 10 year old daughter has always HATED water by her head (Whether it be getting her hair washed or submerging it to swim). when she was around 4 or 5, she playing/sliding around in the bathtub as I supervised , I told her to calm it down a bit because she was getting water everywhere, no sooner did the words come out of my mouth things went full scale gnarly mode with her sliding under the water for like literally a second.

She went MENTAL crying hysterically and shaking as she sat back up. I pulled the plug and wrapped her in a towel not saying a word or giving her shit because , well she was damn near hysterical and it seemed like a dick move.

So I carried her into her room and laid her in her bed still not really understanding why my normally calm and collected child was sobbing uncontrollably so I just said in my best soothing mom voice "bubba, you're not in trouble....you just got..." (this is when she cuts me off screaming) (I AM NOT CRYING BECAUSE OF THAT, IM CRYING BECAUSE OF THE TIME I DROWNED IN THE BATHTUB!!!!!!!!"

After my initial what the actual fuck moment , I asked her what she meant by that to which she said (still kind of crying) "the time I died in the bathtub, you weren't my mom then so don't worry about it"
After that she promptly closed up and wouldn't talk about it anymore.

Username: Meggzwell

Apparently when I was like three or four I would stare out my windows at night towards my grandparents house. My mom once asked why I was staring. I said "I just remember that was my room.," When she asked me to elaborate I just said "Why did they knock down that dang wall??"

My great grandfather lived in the room I could see from mine. After he died (a year before I was born) my grandfather tore a wall down and made it into a sunroom. My mom didn't know about that and neither did my dad. So when my mom mentioned it causally to my grandparents my grandfather was in disbelief.

Then when I was five I stated with them over the summer. I was picking strawberries with my grandmother and said "Isn't this where we had the pigs? Where'd the shed go?" They stopped having pigs when my great grandfather got too old to care for them. The shed was torn down after it was hit by a tree limb during a tornado. There was no way I'd have known about it.

My mom also said I'd sometimes say something in a different language (my great grandfather was Hungarian) and my great aunt told my dad it sounded like a curse my great grandfather would say often.

ETA: my mom had told me that it stopped after we moved and only returned when I was there visiting. I stopped going after I was seven because my dad had a falling out with my grandpa. She speculated that my great grandfather may have possessed me? It was weird the way she spoke of it.

Username: Tibbersbear

I see a lot of people talking about their own past life experiences, so I thought I'd share the only one I can remember. I was actually pretty old for this one, maybe in my early 20s, but I had the most vivid dream one night out of nowhere.

It started in my grandmother's house. As I turned the corner from the living room into the dining room, I noticed a really old wooden door somehow between the two rooms, even though it's just a dividing wall between them, a few inches wide. I went through the door and suddenly I'm in an old, circular stone tower with no roof.

It was either snowing into the tower or I just felt it was winter. And my first thought as I saw all this was "Oh, I remember this! This is where we used to sing hymns!" I remember the "we" in this thought was referring to my family, which I pictured as some members of my current family, including my grandmother whose house it was in the beginning of the dream.

But also, it was referring to many other people I was "remembering" standing around me in the tower, like it was a congregation or small village I thought of as family.

After I woke up, I remember feeling a deep sadness for a long time. It felt like it was something I truly had lost. There was nothing to it outside of those couple seconds, but there were so many strong feelings associated with it. Like it was definitely in medieval europe, a very rural area.

The tower itself was an older structure we decided to use as a chapel because we all liked how it sounded to sing in. I think I used to tell my mom I lived in Ireland in a past life when I was little, and after this dream I think I'd have to believe my kid-self.

Edit: Speaking of which, I should add that in the dream when I turned the corner and went into the door, I briefly saw myself in 3rd person and I looked like I did when I was younger. Maybe I somehow unlocked
my childhood ability to remember these things

Username: ipwntmario

When I was young, probably from 3 to 5 or 6, I used to talk to myself in my room all the time, and my mom would eavesdrop in out of curiosity. She said I would talk to "my sisters" though at that point I only had a younger brother. When she asked me about it I told her they were my 3 sisters from a past life.

This was kinda creepy but not nearly as creepy as when I started talking about "grandad" or maybe it was grandpops, I don't remember this myself honestly. But there was only one person in the family who went by that title, instead of grandpa X.

She said I knew more about him then I had any real right too, prefered nicknames, what his personality was like, ect. That was when they REALLY started getting creeped out. Nothing like waking up in the middle of the night and hearing your kid talking to ghosts to put a little spook in you.

While I don't remember talking to ghosts myself, I DO remember that one night I couldn't fall asleep because voices kept calling my name all night long. Like a LOT of voices, non stop, all night. I remember when the sun came up I got worried because I thought I'd be in trouble for not sleeping.

As an adult I've never had a non drug related auditory hallucination in my life, though a few times I've had too much THC and then things got a bit funky, but that's fairly normal for a hallucinogen.

That one night is the only clear memory I have, but I do remember that I heard voices a fair bit when I was alone, mostly because I remember thinking during that night they weren't normally this many and they didn't usually last so long.

I'm fairly certain that I don't have any kind of mental illness that would cause that, since I have others and have seen a fair number of therapists in my life, and also never had this happen as an adult.

Username: wiggywack13

One day, when I was at age of 4, visited my biological Mom (another long story) and her husband. They asked me how was day. And I told them. They asked, “what were you doing before that?” And I told them about the day before. Again, they asked me “what was before that?”

And I told them some thing that were going. They kept asking me same questions, until they noticed that I started to look somewhere at distance, and my stories became strange, something about different times and places, where I couldn’t be.

They freaked out, and decided, that I may be in some hypnosis state, and that they shouldn’t stop questioning me. They asked me again and again and again. After another same question I suddenly replied: “Before that were a rock and a tree”. Surely, they politely asked me of what was before that, and I said: “There were nothing” and looked at them.

Off course I don’t remember anything about it. My biological mom told me this story when I was nine or something like that. I was amazed, and was wondering what it could mean.

Some time passed by, I was reading mythology encyclopedia (that was and still my hobby) and Bam! Here it is! In ancient Egypt there were town called Heliopolis. Main cult of people living there was god by name Benu. That was said, this god had two artifacts - Stone of Creation Ben-Ben and Holy tree of Ished. Both of this items symbolized creation of world. Later, this god was known as Phoenix.

That’s when I freaked out a bit. A long time after that I was convinced that Ancient Egypt had keys to meaning of our existence, later I realized that in my past life I could be Egyptian, that lived in Heliopolis and worshiped his beloved God. Now, I do believe it was just an imagination and coincidence. However, reading this thread makes me wonder...Thanks for reading!

Username: Sphairoth

I'm really late to the party, but I was always fascinated with reincarnation. My family is heavily religious but mom, myself and sister are black sheep. When I was a kid, I would have dreams and wake up with actual marks on my body from them, two dreams in particular up until about age 12. I believe they were my previous deaths.

First one, I am on horseback, there is a battle and I am in the thick of it fighting with thin armor. The armies were not massive and we must have been in Scotland or Ireland based on the surroundings. The dream did not last long but ended suddenly when I was shot by an arrow through the left side of my chest and I fell off my horse. I woke up as soon as I hit the ground. I turned on my night light and had a red arrow head shape mark on the left side of my chest.

Second, I am in the woods and shirtless with leather clothes. Not sure where but I always assumed it was America because I was a native with long dark hair, beads and feather jewelry around my neck and in my hair. I walked slowly and slightly crouched like I was needing to be quiet and unseen.

I step on something and make a sound, not a loud one but I froze in place to prevent more. Then the ground shakes and I can hear something charging behind me. I turn around and pull out a stone knife but it's too late.

A massive brown bear is on top of me and slashes its claws across my rib cage and then I see it's open mouth coming at my head. I'm dead, dream ends and I wake up. On my torso are two sets of large, long red marks across both sides of my ribs.

I go to my moms room and she freaked out when she saw them thinking I had gotten hurt. I never told anyone else in my family. After the bear dream, I never had this happen again.

Username: CreamofInk

So my grandpa's friend's daughter's friend took 4g of mushies one afternoon, and somewhere in the midst of a pretty intense but overall good trip, she suddenly had 2 consecutive incredibly vivid "visions" I guess would be the best way to describe them.

In the first she had, she was some sort of proto-archaeopteryx creature. She told me that the she was high in the trees of a rainforest type environment, and was leaping from branch to branch and sort of gliding but mostly falling with a little control then climbing up the trunk to leap again.

he way she saw things was strange. Colors were very vivid in some cases such as blues and reds, but greens were very muted. Then she saw a lizard basking on a nearby branch and it was sort of glowing brightly compared to the rest of the environment and she sprang to it and caught it.

She snapped out of the vision and found that she was still laying in her bed completely normal, albeit tripping balls, and closed her eyes again and BAM. She was a soldier in colonial/post colonial American times.

She can't say for sure what war it was... But she was American and they were in the midst of a battle charging with muskets and bayonets. In the vision, she became panicked at all the cannon fire and musket balls coming at her so she dove behind a fallen tree and curled into a ball holding her musket.

She laid there for awhile, and then another American soldier came up to her and started screaming "HANEY, IF YOU DON'T GET OUT HERE AND START FIGHTING LIKE A MAN I'LL HAVE YOU EXECUTED FOR COWARDICE" but she was to scared to move.

Thought those were some pretty interesting stories she had, and she claimed that they were so vivid they felt like past lives.

Username: SHITTYANDUNFUNNY

When I was about 13 I had a dream that felt very real and I have continued to have various dreams throughout my life of this particular man that actually intersected recently.
In the first dream (from what I can remember) I was a little white girl living on a farm. There was a neighbour who was a little black boy and we would play in the field. The little boy and I went to go walk to a corner store...this corner store was very rustic and was really more like a wooden shack.
The front of the store read "no blacks allowed" which made me very sad... Bits and peices of the dream are missing but the dream showed me and this little boy growing up and falling in love.
Throughout my life I have continuously had dreams about me and this man being in love and living our lives...in one dream we were riding a bus together having a conversation and everyone was staring...alot of the dreams revolve around how difficult it was to be so in love in such a racist time...but some of the dreams are just of us dancing or holding eachother and looking into eachothers eyes etc...I have been having dreams of this man I have never seen in my real life for 16 years now!!! The love I feel for this man in my dream is unexplainable...it is a love deeper than I have ever felt in my real life.
Now heres where it gets weird. When I was a little girl (I am talking as young as 6 years old) I have had reoccuring dreams about a man named John chasing me through a forest. I don't know how I know that this mans name was John but I just do. In these dreams I am always running for my life and it is terrifying.
When I was a teenager in one of these dreams John caught me and shot me in the head with a gun. I died in the dream and it was very real...I actually felt my spirit leaving my body. That was the first and only time in my life that I woke up with sleep paralysis. I have continued to have these dreams about a man named John chasing me through the forest for my entire life and I am 29 now.
I recently had a dream that I was at a party with my black lover (from all of my reoccuring dreams). We were standing on the street laughing and goofing around when John appeared and shot me ....I died in my lovers arms and woke up crying.
I highly suspect that this is a past life memory that has been playing out in my dreams for as long as I can remember.

Username: LuckyStrawberryMoon

So I loved my brother. He was 7 years older then me. I had 2 older brothers and the one closer to my age used to pick on me but my oldest brother would always stand up for me and defend me. Our father wasn't around and our mother was usually too busy to care for us so my brother was often the one at home taking care of us.

He taught me to ride a bike, he taught me how to cook, we used to watch movies together, he introduced me to anime, he taught me to throw a punch and defend myself. (he was a black belt in MMA) He bought my friends and I our first bottle of Alcohol and stayed home with us to make sure we paced ourselves and were safe.

He came to my plays and dance recitals, he used to play guitar while I sang. He used to take me to school and pick me up, he taught me to drive and if I was ever at a party and was too drunk or felt unsafe I could call him and he would ride to my rescue. He was my hero. I loved him.

He was also severely depressed and dealt with feelings of inadequacy and failure. He killed himself when he was 32. In his suicide note he mentioned being transgender which no one knew about. It was devastating to me to lose him. I used to have dreams where he would tell me he was ok and not to be sad.

If I ever felt like I needed his advice Id have a dream visit from him. These dreams became an immense source of comfort. About 4 years ago I got the last of these dream visits. I didnt know it then but I was a few weeks pregnant with my first child. He told me we would see each other very soon. 8 months later I welcomed my daughter into the world. On his birthday. I named her after him.

Two years ago she started speaking and one day she was sitting on my lap while I was scrolling through my brothers old facebook page looking at pictures of him. She pointed at his picture and said "thats me, remember when i was your brother mommy?" The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

I started questioning her and she started telling me about things she could never have known, how he taught me to ride a bike, and drive and all sorts of other things. I called up our other brother and told him about what she was saying. He came to visit and sure enough she recognized him (It was the first time they had met) and recalled things about their relantionship as well.

One day when it was just the two of us she said she was much happier now as a girl. For years I had felt like my brother abandoned me. I want to believe he never did. I want to believe he was always with me and chose me to give him the life he had always wanted. Is this just wishful thinking?

Username: reincarnatedbrother

I’m not a basketball fan and don’t know much about the sport at all aside from the very popular names of certain players like Kobe Bryant and the guy who dated Madonna (embarrassing, I know. Can’t remember his name, my apologies). But I need help here...

So when my child was 3 or 4 years old, she told me she remembered “flying in planes with her mom” and that she used to “have kids.” When I asked her what else she remembered and why she flew in planes with her mom, she said she “was a boy” and flew because she was a professional “ball player” who played sports “as a job”. I thought this was odd but also interesting; she never spoke of it again. Until last night.

She’s 9 now. Last night we were walking down the street and she asks me if I ever feel like I had a life before this one. I said I don’t know, sometimes maybe, yeah? And she starts talking about how she remembers her “old life.” I never forgot what she told me when she was 3/4 years old so I just let her talk, and boy did she talk!

She went on and on in great detail for about an hour and a half, recounting her old childhood “in Africa”, how she used to “dance around the fire,” how she played basketball for many years and got famous for it, but was also an “engineer,” and was married to a Japanese woman, how they had a little girl and then adopted a black American boy who “had a disability with his legs but I didn’t care because I loved him.”

She said she remembers dying in a head-on collision one night on the way to a store; she said she died in the hospital after the accident and that it was “really sad to say goodbye to my wife and kids like that but I used my last breath to say goodbye to them”.

She added that his daughter “had a skin problem” and that she was bullied in school for it, which made him angry because the principal wouldn’t do anything about it. “I was SO angry... I wanted to de-monitize him” (I was a little shocked 😳 when she used this word ‘demonetize’ but that’s what she said when recounting his daughter’s bullying and nothing being done about it). She also said “after I died I used to follow my wife around everywhere because I loved her so much. I protected her whenever bad things were about to happen, I made sure she was safe.”

I sat there listening to all this not knowing what to do but I asked her how she thought I might be able to help. She said she didn’t know. She added that she feels “a little confused about my family. I don’t know where they are now or if they’re ok, so... I have to figure that out.”

I googled some things, searching for ‘basketball player from Africa who died in car accident’ and “African basketball player with Japanese wife,” things like that but so far I haven’t found much. As I said, I know nothing about basketball much less its history or players but maybe this might ring a bell for someone out there? I feel like maybe someone needs to hear it? I posted this on the r/nbadiscussion forum earlier this morning and it got removed.

I asked why and the mod said they “don’t allow lies, and jokes, etc.” I said it wasn’t a joke or a lie and that I was looking for help. Then someone else commented that my daughter is “making up stories” like millions of other kids.

First of all, I know my daughter, and my daughter doesn’t make up stories like that, much less sit and talk TO me for nearly two hours straight. Second of all, I think a lot of children have memories of previous lives but no one takes them seriously and writes them off as “stories”!

So I dunno, if this guy was real and his family is still alive, maybe someone out there somewhere can help identify him? Would be nice to at least let the family know he is... ok.
Username: Fabulous_Research

Obligatory not a parent, but I used to have very vivid dreams of being a soldier in the British Army in the 60s, more specifically a paratrooper. One scene that I can (could, details have faded) very well remember to this day is marching on a trail, rather damp, wearing the paratrooper camo smock, humping my L1A1, and I remember specifically the rucksack of the man in front of me on the trail, and their maroon beret.

This marching is all I can remember from the dream, and I know that I was second in line with six more behind me. I know I had facial hair and that the person in front of me was a lieutenant.

I had other detailed dreams too, some recurring, but they mostly stopped around when I was 20 and they faded mostly. I seem to remember combat (and once I woke up in a panic after one of these dreams), but I don't know where combat took place or against whom. Pretty sure it wasn't the Falklands though.

Edit: I'm not british (in this life), but I caught on to the english language pretty quickly and I actually have an english accent when I speak it, to the point where most people think I'm a native speaker.

Since I look military age, whenever I strike up a chat with military people, they ask me when I served and are very surprised when I tell them that I haven't. I also had a little incident when I was 17 amd I was shooting air rifles with a friend.

We were on a frozen over pond, and when we were finished we started walking off the ice, but the ice started cracking under our feet. My friend went " *ropibear*, JUMP !" and I lept, rifle in hand towards ground. I landed doing a forward roll, and I completed the roll arriving to half knee, the rifle shouldered in the low ready position. It all went unplanned and like a reflex.

My friend told me that he was expecting me to start shooting at the treeline the way I ended up. I also seem to have knowledge of understanding of the way of military people. So yeah, I do believe I had a military background in a past life.

Username: ropibear

Not past life but here goes. And I am a little hesitant to put this out there in the universe for my weird reasons but so be it. A dear friend died, elderly. My son was with me when we found the body. He was a toddler. We went to the funeral and buried her in a cemetery we pass daily near our home .

One day several months later -my son was about 3 or 4 then - he said, "I am going to be buried there. I see you and Daddy and (sister's name) standing over my grave crying. Don't cry, I'm OK". I nearly drove off the road. When he was a baby I breast feed him until he was a year.

e was very attached and was a clinger baby in a good way. He would lock arms with me and stay very close all the time, I couldn't leave the room without him taking notice and protesting, but a totally sweetheart and super loving.

When I would breast feed him I would get an overwhelming sense (something stronger but I can't find the word) - I guess a knowing - that he was going to die young as a soldier or a cop. I told me husband this but he is the opposite of me and was like yeah whatever. Then I told him the story in the car and -he looked at me funny.

I told my friends and they were like - Nothing you can do - If it happens it happens. So I kept this very close to my heart and always remembered it when he was clingy or wanted to sleep in our bed (often). He is a teen now and the feeling has gone but lingers.

I try to remember this when he a jerk teenager which is often. I told him the story about a year ago and he said he felt he was OK with young death or old, whatever happens happens. I of course do not what whatever to happen! but I have to accept if it does.

So I pray often that this is not the case. I don't want to update this story ever if you know what I mean. Makes me appreciate my time with him when I remember that day in the car. Still gives me chills.

Username: Level-Rate-4550

Not so much a past life story, but more of what I call my “guardian angel” story: when I was about 3, my mom and I lived in a small house. My dad had been stationed in the Middle East (not sure exactly where, as he was sent all over Iraq, Kuwait, UAE, Afghanistan, etc) during Desert Shield/Desert Storm.

So mom and I were alone for quite a while. One day, she was in the bathroom getting ready for the day and she hears me chatting away in my room. She thinks nothing of it, assuming I’ve made my first imaginary friend.

Panic sets in, however, when I come find her and ask, “mommy, who is that man in my room?”
“What man?”
The man in my room. He’s been talking to me.”

She proceeds to lock us in the bathroom and call my grandpa (her dad) to walk through the house. He comes over and assures us that there’s no one there.

I go back to playing and mom kinda lets it go. Soon after, I tell her, “mommy, that man is back”
She finally asks me, “well, what does he say to you?”
“He said he loves me.”

“Did he tell you his name?”
“It’s Grandpa Ted.”
“You mean Popa?” (Her dad’s name is Ted and we’ve always called him “Popa”)

“No. Grandpa Ted.”
“Are you sure you don’t mean Uncle Ted?” (Her brother is also named Ted. It’s a family name)
“No. It’s Grandpa Ted. He says he loves me and he’s watching over me.”

At this point, my mom just kinda gives up and shrugs it off. Fast forward a few weeks later and my grandma is flipping through some old family photo albums. I climb up to look at the pictures and as she turns the page, I point to a photo and shout, “mommy! That’s Grandpa Ted! That’s the man in my room!”

The photo I pointed to was the only surviving photo of my Popa’s dad, who was also named Ted. I’d never seen the photo previously. None of us had ever met him, not even my Popa. He was killed in a car accident 5 days before my Popa was born in 1941.

Username: LuciHara

I had a dream that I was a jazz singer in the 20s and I had a daughter with a little ribbon. She was never allowed to get dirty and always had to sit nice and she played backstage with a lot of boxes. She was my entire world. I was very protective of her and wouldn't let any men or anyone near her.

Anyway I went on stage to sing and my manager had to watch her and I was very strict about him watching her.

Then I met a man and went on a few dates. My manager didn't like it and warned me about going alone. But I went to this apartment and as soon as the door opened, everything went white and I woke up in terror.

My ex the same night had a dream he was a manager of a singer and she had a daughter that he would help look after. He wanted to be with the singer but she kept turning him down. She started seeing this guy and he warned her about him because he didn't like him and got bad vibes. She went on a date and to his apartment where she got murdered.

My mom (also the same night) had a dream that she was a little girl and she was playing behind a stage with a whole bunch of boxes and her mom had to go on stage. She had to always be clean and tidy and proper. She also wasn't allowed to be near any men, especially her manager. But one day her mom went missing and she never saw her again and the manager had to help take care of her.

The other freaky part is my ex said my next boyfriend would be the guy who murdered me in my past life. I also saw a medium waaay before these dreams happened and she said this is the first lifetime my mom has been my mom, most times she was my daughter.

So, she isnt very good at being a mom to me and I am probably more of a mom to her. When we told eachother these dreams, it was weird because we knew who each person was but we all looked different. It scared the crap out of us.

Username: itliesbeneaththesand

So not a past life, but pre-birth. My daughter was an identical twin. The twin died before they were born. We did not tell our living daughter and we never spoke about the baby who passed, in fact we never told anyone not even our families, we had alot of complications with the pregnancy and we knew one twin wasn't going to make it early on, so to spare our families the heartache we decided to keep it a secret.

Fast forward to 18 months old. Our daughter is super smart said her first word at 3 months old and was speaking full sentences by 1 year, she would ask constantly about her sister at the time she was an only child. I told her she didn't have a sister, she insisted she did.

For years this persisted even after we had our second child, a son, who she knew about before we did. Long before I suspected I was pregnant she would touch my stomach ad say "baby Daddy in there."

Last year she got engaged, she was telling me how she and her husband to be are discussing children, they both want kids and she asked again about her twin sister, she said " Mom, if I ask you something will you tell me the truth?"

I answered "Of course" She asked " was I a twin? I finally told her, her answer was "I knew it."

I explained everything and told her we didn't want her to ever feel bad or guilty about her sister, that we were so grateful for her and we loved her more then she could ever know. I was afraid she would be angry, but this gentle soul comforted me and told me not to worry and she thanked me for telling her.

I finally said our other daughter's name, a name I never spoke again after she died and all that pain I held so close was finally gone. I will love and miss my other baby forever, but the heaviness of that secret is gone.

Username: Veganmon

Not a parent but apparently i look like the male version of my mom’s grandmother. But creepier is apparently I act just like her and talk like her...and think just like her. She died 10 years before I was born I think. Maybe even before that. And lived far far away.

The creepy part is none of this feedback comes from family members. It comes from random old people who knew her. The creepiest example is: As a teenager we went to Disney in florida and was chatting with an older couple with their grandkids.

After a bit the woman said I look and act just like her neighbor when she was growing up. Immediately, For no reason what so ever I blurted out “soy yo, Marisol”. At that point the woman never said her name was Marisol, I had no idea she spoke spanish (nor did she know I spoke Spanish).

She responded dead pan “Dora (last name)? De Calle ___ en Buenos Aires?” I snapped back to myself and stammered I was her great grandson meanwhile my mom had shivers down her spine and started to tear up.

I’ve also had several people with Dementia who knew her call me by her name and try to play the “remember when...” game. And some of those things they would bring up give me strong senses of deja vu. At my grandfathers funeral this happened dozens of times from people I’ve never met.

One day I plan to go back to her home town to visit if that’s ever possible. She grew up outside of what was then Grudno, Poland (now Hrodna, Belarus) before moving to Buenos Aires during the Holocaust. I know traveling to Belarus isn’t very common and sometimes not easy, but I wonder if I’ll have some weird past life vibes being there

Username: Bacardiologist

My first child didn't talk until he was almost three. That being said, I watched a 9/11 video one day on the computer with earbuds and he came up behind me (just turned two) and I paused it before the plane hit the tower. I mean computer screen wise it was innocent on a paused screen and looked like a black blurb three inches from the building.

That was the day my child decides to start screaming like I'm murdering him, repeating "plane! Burn!" And then locking himself in my closet for 45 minutes having the most horrific meltdown I can only describe as a psychotic breakdown on the floor under a blanket.

For four months any time he saw a plane or heard one he went into some type of complete meltdown. About two months after this happened he was walking with my mother, plane went by overhead and he grabbed her hand and made her get on the ground with him.

It just stopped one day. He just acted like it never happened. To this day it creeps me out thinking about it. There was no way he could have known about that still image being 9/11-he was born in 2011. He doesn't have the concept to grasp any knowledge of that. I have never been more hurt and confused for my child than the plane fear out of NOWHERE.

Username: lemonadewinterjack

My niece years ago, about three years old: “Last time, I was a bad, bad man in prison.”
”What last time are you talking about, sweetie?” I said to a truly cherubic little girl.

”Last time when I was wearing my boy head. I’m wearing my girl head now. Last time I was a bad man and they put me in prison and put hot peppers up my butt!”
I was speechless. (Then she says, “Next time I’m gonna put on my boy head and marry you!”)

My son at a little younger, maybe just 2, started talking. One day he is just eating dinner and starts pouting his lip and then sobbing.
“What’s the matter, honey?”

”I miss my old friends!” He says through sobs and then tells me all about his friends with Japanese sounding names. He tells me they lived by the ocean and used to fish together and cook together and they were his best friends and he missed seeing them so much. He was inconsolable. I wrote down some of the names and words at the time and consoled him, or tried to.

In the next year, he started a new daycare and met another little boy his age, and another boy too. These three boys have been inseparable for over a decade now and do seem like such old souls together.

Their moms and me totally get that their bond and connection is so strong! Even when they may be going through a bickering phase, they are closer than brothers or best friends.

I found the words he had uttered a bit ago in a notebook and googled them. They were actual Filipino words and names! I have no doubt he is reunited with his best friends again this time around. And as for my niece, she is a perfectly happy and well-adjusted young woman now!

Username: MountainMoonshiner

Not the parent, but the kid in question (30M now).
I think that certain traits can be inherited, but sometimes it can get scary even for adults.

People think I'm my maternal grandfather reincarnated, same face, same anger-issues, same creative tinkering and the same disdain for my mother (his daughter (NC now due to her manupilative/racist/narcistic personality)).

He was a jack-of-all-trades, never gotten a diploma, sharpshooter, woodworking enthousiast, loved plants and cats and got a mean left hook.
He died of a lungdisease.

I'm a jack-of-all-trades, never gotten a diploma, I've got a mean shot (anti-gun, so only carnival shooting), recently picked up woodworking and carved some statues very fast and of a certain level that couldn't be possible for a beginner.
I work with plants through IT and have a lot of weird rare plants, and there's a cat.

Also I love to tinker and have an innate knowledge of dimensions, sizes (can guess them correctly up to 5mm), electronics and other stuff that's technical in nature.

Don't like to fight, but got a mean left hook, I'm right-handed normally, but fight, eat and can work left-handed, almost on an ambidexter level.
I'm really scared of spaces with ''bad air'' and won't go near chimneys.

Also told mother when I was younger (3/4) that I saw through her manupilative lies and that she should've gone to therapy like I told my wife (her mother).

Also nephew (3/4) told me: ''I shouldn't had stolen your bike, but feeding me to your pigs? Man that was cruel.'' GP fed a German to his pigs when one wanted to take his bike (WW2)

Username: herrvonsmit