30 Signs You Might Not Be from Around Here: The Starseed's Checklist

(Inspired by Tara Gurses)

• You’ve felt deeply alone since childhood — as if you were adopted by Earth. You used to stare at the sky and cry, waiting for your "real family" to come get you. The older you get, the more alien everything feels.
• You’re smart, but school bored you to tears. Formal education often seemed like nonsense. From a young age, you questioned everything: reality, societal norms, rules, even why people clap at the end of movies.
• You carry a soul-level fatigue. It’s as if your soul has been traveling since the beginning of time. You're wise beyond your years, yet crave silliness like a child. You want to go "home"—but you’re not sure where that is.
• You’ve had paranormal or metaphysical experiences. Seeing spirits, sensing other dimensions, frequent lucid dreams, even meeting beings that weren’t exactly from around here.
• You constantly question why you’re here. Everything feels… off. Like your true purpose doesn’t align with modern life. Spiritual topics are your native language.
• Your empathy is dialed to 100. You can feel people, places, even objects. Sometimes too much.
• Your body is ultra-sensitive. You react to foods, chemicals, sounds, and even emotions that others seem immune to. Doctors are confused. Nature helps.
• You can’t describe “home,” but you know it’s not here. The ache is real. You carry a homesickness for a place you’ve never physically been.
• You struggle to care about "normal" things. Like climbing a corporate ladder, winning arguments, or owning a house. You just want trees, music, and love.
• You remember flying. Or teleporting. Or shaping reality with thought. And it feels more real than taxes ever will.
• You’re on a mission — even if you don’t know what it is yet. You're constantly scanning for your “soul tribe.” Family? That was just your Earth starter pack.
• You dream big. Live small. You see stunning, multidimensional realities in your mind, but real life? Feels like a black-and-white rerun.
• You were an odd child. Maybe lonely. Maybe bullied. Or just... avoided. People knew you were different, even if they couldn’t say why.
• You read people like a book — in a language they don’t even know they're speaking. And some folks? They hate that.
• Babies and little kids adore you. They stare. A lot. Like they know something adults have forgotten.
• Animals trust you. Instinctively. You understand each other without words.
• Small talk bores you. You already know what people will say. Which makes you look rude or detached. But you honestly don’t care.
• People think you’re cold... until they actually get to know you. Then they realize you’re made of nothing but warmth and stardust.
• You need strong boundaries. Being around too many people drains you. You only vibe with those who “get it.” And they’re rare.
• You’ve always known you’re not just human. You remember versions of yourself. Past lives. Other dimensions. You know you're here for a reason — and that you’re being protected.
• Your words and hands heal. People feel lighter just by being around you. You didn’t ask for this. It just is.
• Strangers seek you out. Sometimes they say, “I’ve seen you in a dream.” Or, “I don’t know why, but I had to talk to you.”
• You were a “grown-up child.” Quick to walk, read, question everything. You never took no for an answer.
• You talk to yourself — or maybe your guides. You’re not crazy. Just... multidimensional.
• You rarely sleep well. Night is when the veil is thin. You feel your guides. Your dreams are not just dreams.
• You experience deep waves of sadness or hopelessness. Earth feels too harsh. Too cruel. You miss a world that actually makes sense.
• You don’t understand the rat race. Working jobs you hate to buy things you don’t need? That’s not for you. Give you a cabin in the forest any day.
• You live in multiple dimensions at once. You’re here... but also somewhere else. You feel split.
• Your concept of God doesn’t fit any book. You feel divinity in the wind, in silence, in everything. Religion feels too... boxed in.
• You know — deep down — that you’re not from here. You don’t talk about it much. But people feel it. And so do you.

If you nodded through most of this list: welcome back, traveler. You’re not broken. You’re just remembering.