I was raised strictly Catholic growing up. I attended Sunday Mass every single week. I learned about the Bible and Jesus during Sunday School. I absolutely hated Sunday School. The teacher was about eighty years old, and had the sharpest facial features that made it seem like she could cut you with a whip of her head. She had a very nasty, sour attitude that made it uncomfortable to be near her.
I called bullshit on Catholicism shortly after having her as an instructor. I remember asking in class one day, “How can we be sure that Jesus was real?” She looked at me and smiled, and I thought, “Oh no, this is it. She’s going to punish me for asking a question like that.” But she came over to me and went to her knees, hands resting upon the table.
“Sweetheart, let me tell you a story. I was painting the garage one summer. The paint was worn down and desperately needed to be reapplied. My husband had died a few years prior, and I never got around to finishing a lot of tasks that needed to be completed. So I got up on the ladder with my bucket of paint and paint brush, and started working. The ladder started to wobble, and suddenly it was falling backwards. I knew that I was going to die. I prayed and prayed in those few short seconds. But I opened my eyes and the ladder adjusted itself to stand strong again.” She had tears in her eyes at this point. I thought she was going to start bawling.
“Ma’am, it’s not wise to tell such stories.” I said, biting my lip to keep my grin from spreading ear to ear. I swear that she looked like she had just witnessed the Devil in with her own eyes. She stepped back and put her hand over my heart and snorted.
I never stepped foot in Sunday school after that incident.
Hearing that story, made me disbelieve in the Catholic religion. The story my teacher told me was undoubtedly made up, at least exaggerated to some degree. It didn’t take me long to realize religion wasn’t for me. If the Catholic “God” was real, why did this woman of God need to lie to gather followers? I didn’t like that.
I lived the next thirteen or so years as an atheist. And it was incredibly difficult, coming from a Catholic family. For the most part, I had a very accepting family who only forced me to go to church on occasion. We moved shortly after this happened and I attended Bible Study classes to keep my mother happy, even though I didn’t really believe in any of it. I was there for more a social visit anyways.
I would always cling to facts and science to explain the world. I told myself that ancient Gods and Goddesses were created as an imagination technique to explain phenomenons, and common things that we didn’t have scientific evidence of yet. I believed people made up these Gods and Goddesses to describe things such as the sun setting, lightning storms, stars in the sky. I tried to find scientific evidence for every single thing. I refused to believe anything was “Fate” or anything was “Destined”. Magic, miracles, all of that crap. I didn’t believe it.
About two months ago, something inside me told me to look up the word “Wicca”. To be honest, I had no idea what this even was. I’d never even heard of the word. I knew what a “Witch” was. Kind of. I knew the Hollywood representation of the witch. I thought of things like pointed black hats, long flowing robes, big giant cauldrons with a ladle. I thought of bat wings in jars and other magic spell ingredients lined on a shelf. I thought of green skin and warts.
What I researched blew my mind instantly. I found that I related very identically to a lot of the Wiccan aspects. For instance, I get a strange surge of energy when I am outside. When my bare toes are in the grass, I can feel the energy swim through my toes to disperse throughout my entire body. I can feel the caress of the wind on my cheek, whispering words as it whistles by. I can feel the tree branches stretching, as they give me the air to breathe.
I’ve always had a strong connection to animals as well. I’ve spent a lot of time researching this, but can’t find something to tie it to in Wicca. What I believe it is, is that the animals are hypersensitive to the energy I’m giving off. They can sense that the energy I am emitting is pure, and that I am aware of the role nature plays in my life. In the cycle of life as well. I think the fact that I acknowledge them, and respect them, is grounds for them to respect me as well.
I have always been an extreme empath. Ever since I could think for myself. The emotions of others seems to seep deep into me. Whether the emotions be negative or positive. It can truly be irritating at times. When someone is emitting negative energy, I absorb it, and instantly I am negative and irritated. I’ve heard there are certain stones that can control this, so I will have to test out those theories.
The one concept that threw me off a little, was of the God and Goddess. I went without believing in religion for over ten years. How could I just give that up? Even though a lot of other aspects related to me. I let this sit on my brain. I had given up hope for Wicca for about a week. Finding that worshipping a God/Goddess just wasn’t in my cards.
I went to bed one night during that week, Wicca still constantly on my mind, like a forbidden lover. I closed my eyes and said to myself, “If this is real. Please, give me a sign. Give me something to believe in.” I sighed, and then drifted off to dream land. I’ve always been one to focus on evidence. The sole practice of “just believing” never really did it for me. I was always one to need proof to truly understand something.
It goes without saying, I got my proof that night. I had a dream that night. I had a dream that Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, Sex, and Beauty handed me a key. A key to unlocked the knowledge and true meaning of being a Wiccan.
I awoke with a sudden jolt and was filled with the best feeling I’ve ever felt. The feeling was comparable to how I felt on my wedding day. My heart just felt so full and I thought I was going to explode with joy.
I realized that I had been chosen by my Goddess. She gave me the sign that I so desperately needed. She let me know that there is a reason to believe, and the key will help me do just that.
Through deciding that being a Wiccan is truly who I am, I’ve never felt more alive. I’ve never felt more energized. I feel like there is now a purpose in my life, and I have something to constantly look forward to. I am still learning. Learning every single day, and learning new things about this beautiful journey.
I hope to document my journey through this blog. Explaining my processes and trails through this.
I understand how difficult it really can be to realize a certain religion isn’t for you. I struggled with spiritual identification for the longest time. I was never truly happy with being an atheist. I wasn’t happy in the slightest being Catholic. But Wicca? I feel like I’m home.