Confessions of a Bad Witch

My name is Jessi, and I am a flawed witch.

I don’t always practice on the Sabbats and esbats. I don’t always despose of my spells properly (read: I throw them out or leave them in the eves of my porch for literal years). I don’t have all of the latest tarot decks nor do I have an amethyst the size of my head (but if the cosmos wanted to provide that hermaion, I certainly wouldn’t pass it up). I don’t like fake nails and my hair is blonde and some days I prefer a lay in the grass to a chant at the altar.

My practice has never looked quite like traditional witchcraft, nor does it match the aesthetic and astrological interests of much modern witchcraft either.

It is and always has been blissfully my own thing, taking me the places I want to go in a time frame that works for me. My guides visit me in the guises I need and desire, and I roll around this world with magick in my soul no matter where I’m going or what I’m doing.

FREE THYSELF, WITCH. THIS IS WHY YOU CAME TO THE PRACTICE, NO?

Ain’t none of us perfect, after all!

What you do is beautiful and glorious in its own right, even if you only practice once a week. Even if your morning ritual is a quick nod to the goddess before you go your merry way. The world is a phenomenal playground for us to bop around in, and the celestial realm is the same. Be who you be imperfectly.

I compiled these confessions to let you know that yes–a professional witch and tarot reader has a less than perfect practice. But by goddess, it’s mine, and I love it.

May you love your blissfully imperfect practice as much as I love mine.

Jessi

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