I was raised in the shadowed hills of South Wales, a place where whispers of the old ways persist and where Wicca has quietly yet unmistakably blossomed into a cultural force. Here, it is not uncommon for women to self-identify as witches. Half do so openly, while the other half maintain a reticence that speaks volumes.
The power of the covens, of sisterhood bound by unseen threads, permeates the community, shaping its undercurrents with both enchantment and discord. Where there is power, inevitably, there is envy, and where there is sisterhood, there are games played in shadow.
One cannot live in such a place and remain untouched. Even the skeptic finds themselves compelled to ask: does magic work? Is it real? And if so, to what end?
To that question, I will offer a measured answer, one that reveals but does not expose. While I do not name myself Wiccan, I am proficient in one specific branch of the craft: protective magic. It is the only kind I perform, and it is not undertaken lightly. My practice is rooted in reversal magic, a discipline aligned with the Wiccan Rede, which teaches:
This tenet is a cornerstone, a cautionary tale that vibrates with an ancient truth: the energy we send into the world returns to us, magnified. Belief is not a prerequisite for magic. It operates without our permission, answering only to the currents of intention and will. Respect, therefore, is essential. One must not work magic upon others without their consent.
For this reason, I safeguard myself with protective spells, woven with a focus on reversal. It is a simple premise: what malice is directed toward me shall return to its source, amplified by the laws of the universe. I have seen the consequences of this practice, and they are not to be taken lightly. For both our sakes, I urge caution.
At present, the crescent moon ascends in the sky, a week removed from the dark moon’s embrace. This is a time of renewal and subtle growth, a time when energies align with quiet purpose.
I find myself turning my attention to certain endeavors, projects that glimmer with potential yet draw the inevitable gaze of envy. To these, I extend the shelter of protection, a veil cast with care and intention.
There is purpose in my speaking of this now. After a period of silence and introspection, I am returning to the world’s stage. To internet forums and shared spaces of thought. I do so with the hope that those connected to my work may feel the solace of this protective umbrella. Some will read these words and know they are included in this circle of care.
The magic I work is rooted in harmony, in a desire for balance and betterment. It is not wielded for dominance or petty quarrels but for the preservation of what is right and whole.
To some, all of this may seem strange, an echo of myths best left to games or stories. And yet, we have come far enough from the era of Satanic Panic to speak more openly, to share without fear of undue judgment. Have we not?
The worlds of imagination. Dungeons & Dragons, fantasy tales, and beyond, intertwine with our lived experiences in ways both playful and profound. They remind us that there is power in belief, and there is beauty in mystery.
I write these words from a place of conviction and curiosity, knowing that to speak of magic is to speak of something beyond the boundaries of logic and language. It is to touch, however fleetingly, the infinite.
And so, I extend my protection outward, into the world, from the highest harmony and for the good of all.
May it be so.