I wouldn’t quite call myself a witch, but I hold a deep respect and quiet love for the energy, intention, and time that the path requires. There’s something sacred in the way witches move through the world—with awareness, with reverence—and I often find myself drawn to that rhythm.
I’d say I’m spiritual, though I’m still figuring out what that means for me. I meditate, practice shadow work, visualize, and try to learn from the plants and herbs around me. I’m curious about things like numerology, even if I’ve been told to take it lightly—it still speaks to something inside me. I find signs in nature, patterns in the world, and meaning in small moments.
More than anything, I’m trying to understand myself—who I am, what I’m becoming, and how to walk through this life with purpose. I talk to trees. I listen to the wind. I feel the pull of the moon, and sometimes, I just sit with the earth and breathe. These moments feel like home, even if I can’t quite explain why.
Still, I don’t fully know what I am. I feel like I’m in-between, on the edge of something I can’t yet name. I’ve been quietly seeking—a community, a circle, a place where I can speak openly about the things I’m drawn to. I want to ask questions without judgment, share stories, learn from others, and maybe begin to understand what my path could be.
If anything, I want to belong—to something deeper, older, and more honest. I want to grow, step by step, into whoever I’m meant to become.