Dating is pretty hard for anyone, but being a witch brings a set of unique challenges. I’m the product of my upbringing and my culture, and as such I acknowledge that many of my desires are socially determined. I’m also subject to the biological impulses of my body, which I don’t pretend to understand.I have fantasies about a partner who could also share my responsibilities in Foxfire. I’ve never wanted children, but since I hit my late twenties it’s like I can’t go anywhere without my primal-lizard-brain tugging on my sleeve (or my uterus?I hope for someone who shares my animal affinities, thinks it’s perfectly reasonable to consult the runes, and agrees that I don’t have it. ) screaming WHAT ABOUT HIM HE LOOKS LIKE HE’D BE A FUN DAD. As frustrating as it is for me, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sometimes long for a family that was more Norman Rockwell and less . I periodically (drunkenly) entertain fantasies about raising Pagan children.
I know that it’s all a fantasy—my perceptions aren’t reality and “normal” is mostly a lie—but I’ve never seen anyone else here reading about preserving dead animals for magical purposes or creating sigils for use in some later ritual.
There’s a large faction of people pushing for the representation of Wicca as just another religion, sharing themes and values on par with any other and warranting the same sort of consideration.
Even in non-Wiccan kinds of witchcraft, I often see the assertion that witches are “just like everyone else”—nothing to be afraid of, just like you, could be your neighbors, perfectly normal. I don’t think any definition I could come up with would be totally satisfying, but whatever witchcraft is, I’m sure of this: it’s not just like what everyone else is doing.
I love stories about witches, werewolves, vampires, and basically anyone with magical powers.
I poured a lot of my childhood energy into fighting (imaginary?
) demons, trying to start fires with my mind, and figuring out how to transform into a werewolf.
I was routinely irritated and mystified by protagonists who spent a lot of time bemoaning their specialness.
In these genres, there are an awful lot of Chosen Ones fighting against destiny, just wishing they could be like everyone else.
It was downright infuriating for someone who couldn’t, in fact, start fires or move objects with her mind alone, who doesn’t come from a long line of powerful witches tied together by bonds of blood and magic (or whatever), and who can’t live forever, transform into an animal, or indiscriminately eat villagers (at least not as far as you know, dear readers). Now, though, I sort of get it, though it’s less about having superpowers (again, as far as you know) and more about the obligations that come with practicing Craft and being part of something that’s bigger than just me.
Sometimes, especially as I get older, I wish I could just be more like some of the other “regular” people in my life.
I’m a witch and that, I think, is necessarily an outsider position. This is never more true for me than on those rare occasions when I try to date.