I come from a line of women who knew things, though they rarely said so out loud. My great-grandmother wore a coin bracelet that clinked when she walked—a ward, a spell, a signal. It moved through my Granny, my father, and now, it moves through me. I am the first in my line to be witchy on purpose, taking what was forced into silence and turning it into something sacred.
I grew up in high-control systems where wanting was selfish and magic was dangerous. I spent years looking for protection in all the wrong places, thinking that if I prayed hard enough, I could make myself safe. But the church didn’t make me spiritual; it only reminded me that I always was. When I finally walked away, I didn’t leave empty-handed. I took the fire, the knowing, and the rituals that now belong to me.
Today, my life is ordinary magic. It’s gardening, knitting, raising my kids, and waking up in a house where I am the only authority. Sovereignty isn’t a concept to me; it’s living a life I don’t have to hide.
I work with women who have already done the work—the therapy, the shadow work, the deep dives—but are still waiting to feel different. You come to me with the specific thing you’ve been circling for years and can’t name. I see it, and I make you something for it with my own hands. You name the desire, you cast the spell, and you do the magic. You were never missing the answer; you just needed the eyes to see it and the hands to make it real.
Vendor Biography
I come from a line of women who knew things, though they rarely said so out loud. My great-grandmother wore a coin bracelet that clinked when she walked—a ward, a spell, a signal. It moved through my Granny, my father, and now, it moves through me. I am the first in my line to be witchy on purpose, taking what was forced into silence and turning it into something sacred.
I grew up in high-control systems where wanting was selfish and magic was dangerous. I spent years looking for protection in all the wrong places, thinking that if I prayed hard enough, I could make myself safe. But the church didn’t make me spiritual; it only reminded me that I always was. When I finally walked away, I didn’t leave empty-handed. I took the fire, the knowing, and the rituals that now belong to me.
Today, my life is ordinary magic. It’s gardening, knitting, raising my kids, and waking up in a house where I am the only authority. Sovereignty isn’t a concept to me; it’s living a life I don’t have to hide.
I work with women who have already done the work—the therapy, the shadow work, the deep dives—but are still waiting to feel different. You come to me with the specific thing you’ve been circling for years and can’t name. I see it, and I make you something for it with my own hands. You name the desire, you cast the spell, and you do the magic. You were never missing the answer; you just needed the eyes to see it and the hands to make it real.