A few years ago, my mom suggested that our family attend a paranormal investigation and dinner. This probably won’t surprise anyone who knows her—she’s a huge Halloween fan. How big? A few years back, she turned my old bedroom into a full-blown Halloween themed tea party.
It was so over the top that my sister posted a video on TikTok, and it quickly racked up hundreds of views. That alone surprised us, since we weren’t exactly posting with hundreds of views in mind.
Despite this, I was hesitant to accept my mom’s invitation. Over time, I’ve found myself increasingly uninterested in paranormal investigation shows. They often feel sensationalized—designed more for views than for genuine understanding. And as someone who can connect with passed loved ones (something I believe everyone is capable of), I assumed this experience wouldn’t be much different.
Still, I said yes.
At the time, my daughter wanted to go, and I felt it was important to experience it with her so we could talk afterward—about what she noticed, what she felt, and what it all meant to her.
Entering a “Haunted” Location
On the day of the event, we met at the restaurant where the paranormal investigation was being held. The location is reportedly known for its paranormal activity and even attracts tourists because of its so-called haunted rooms.
The investigators introduced themselves and explained how the night would unfold. We ate dinner first, then broke into small groups and rotated through different areas of the building believed to be the most “active.”
As we split up, I felt a mix of curiosity and skepticism. My sister, on the other hand, was both thrilled and visibly nervous—hoping for some kind of undeniable paranormal experience.
The investigators relied on electronic devices to attempt spirit communication, including spirit boxes and EMF meters. Up until that point, I had only heard of these tools but had never seen them used in person.
What I Observed—and What I Felt
As our group moved from room to room, I found myself observing less of the equipment and more of the people. I watched attendees’ reactions—how eager they were, how fearful, and how deeply they wanted something to happen. I also paid attention to the energy of each space we entered.
In one particular room, I decided to quietly tune in and see what I sensed for myself. What I felt genuinely made me laugh. I picked up on a female spirit sitting just outside the room we were all trying so hard to connect with.
She seemed amused—slightly annoyed even—and gave off a very clear “Oh, it’s these people again” kind of energy. The irony wasn’t lost on me. Here we were, crowded into a room searching for signs of spirit activity, while the spirit I sensed was sitting just outside, uninterested in participating.
The whole thing felt oddly human—and unexpectedly funny.
Why the Need for Proof?
What intrigued me most wasn’t whether spirits were present—it was the intensity of the attendees’ desire to connect. I could see how badly some people wanted to have an experience. The mix of fear, excitement, and anticipation was almost tangible.
It also made me wonder why the event didn’t include a working medium—someone who could offer real-time context about how spirit communication actually works. If the goal is to communicate with the dead, why rely solely on devices and not involve someone who already knows how to connect?
It seemed logical to me. Not as a replacement for the technology, but as a complement—something that could offer clarity instead of chasing validation through equipment alone.
When Curiosity Becomes Entertainment
By the end of the event, I realized I felt unsettled—and even a little upset.
For me, mediumship and spirit connection are deeply reverent experiences. I don’t see them as entertainment or novelty. I understand the pain that comes with loss, and I respect the emotional weight carried by those who are grieving.
I understand that paranormal investigations are often run as businesses, and that they need to attract people to survive. But it’s not the kind of business I would choose to run.
I want people to know that you don’t need EMF meters or spirit boxes to connect with spirit. You don’t even need a medium. Every person is capable of spirit connection in their own way—quietly, intuitively, and without spectacle.
Sometimes, the most meaningful connections don’t make a sound or light up a device at all.