Dear Black Girl Witch: You Don’t Have to Hide
It’s a struggle for all of us.
I know because I struggle too.
Forced for centuries to hide our spirituality and adopt another. Merge our hearts into the lies we accepted under duress to grasp the last bit of home we had left. Our beliefs made clandestine. Condensed and watered down. Evaporated milk. We lost ourselves, strayed away from the conditioning, and found ourselves again.
And we felt liberated when we did.
The freedom of learning your spiritual home, which connects to the heart and soul of who you are, made so much sense. That “woke” feeling stirred deep and you couldn’t keep it to yourself. So, you tried to teach it to others, only to get knocked down. Cursed. Bashed. Called a heathen — a devil. Told it’s not how you were raised. Drowned in a pot of hopes and wishes from folk who wait for you to get over this phase. Get back right. Slap on your church hat and shoes and kneel at the altar.
Thing is: you kneel at the altar — daily.
It’s the one you built in your home for your ancestors but they keep telling you it’s wrong. They tell you it’s wrong to worship the Supreme Being, the Orisa or the Lwa, the Goddesses, Angels, and other deities. To understand all spiritual literature and its principles is confusing. They force you to choose, just as our oppressors did. Although, nearly all religions share the same commonality: treat others the same as you’d want to be. It’s a golden rule for a reason.
They scold you. Tell you it’s wrong to teach others because you aren’t ordained by their standards. Speak of many characters chosen by God, who lived not so great lives, but assert you can’t be the same. Made you feel insecure for sharing the knowledge because it’s not wrapped in scripture or because they didn’t teach it to you. Deem it incorrect or inadmissible. Ostracized because those church walls no longer connect with you and the truth which festers so deep, your Spirit can no longer contain.
I know.
I empathize with you because I struggle with it too.
Exhausted by the ridicule, you become the Hermit. Bury yourself in practice and only emerge when you find a Tribe suitable to embrace you. Confused when you see the same people praise The Secret. Shit, you’ve been preaching about for years. But, because some folk with a lot less melanin than you exhaulted it and a few celebs cosigned — it’s law.
So you watch. You watch them speak of the mysticism in the 66 chapter book they hold so dear, despite it missing a few books and characters in the storyline. You watch them fear Revelations. Smirk in amusement knowing it outlines the life you live.
That abracadabra shit.
Cause you create what you speak.
They call it manifestation.
Much like their vision board.
You watch and look on as they praise the white witches and Wiccans. Find them easy to digest. Somehow their approach seems palatable; yet, it’s no different than yours. Folks shop at their stores. Buy their crystals and jewelry. Scoop up their incense and consecrated candles. Think it’s cute they wear henna, although historically it’s not their culture.
They attend their yoga classes, massage parlors, and spas. Drink their teas and tinctures. Share their herbal remedies. The same ones you’ve been sharing for over a decade. The same crystals you’ve placed in your bra and all parts of your person for years. The same henna you wore and they told you to take that devilish shit off your hands cause it could be some “voodoo-voodoo.” The same henna your boss complained about and claimed it violated the dress code. Yet, he couldn’t care less about Billy’s sleeve — visible from his sleeve.
I’m here to tell you, it’s OK.
You don’t have to hide.
You’re gonna get those phone calls, cause I get them too. You’re gonna have bold ass family members commenting in their side threads about your posts. Just know they’ll never be bold enough to say it to your face. You’re gonna constantly be in a position to explain what you do and why because I do it too. However, I promise you’re not alone. There’s a community of us and we’re all looking for each other. Looking to rekindle our spirits. Find one another so we can get back on track. Cause real talk — we got shit to do. We have a world to save and we can’t do it hiding in the shadows.
Black Girl Witch, I beg you to let loose.
Set your soul free and connect with your Tribe. You don’t have to hide. We’re here and we’re alive. You’re gonna have to walk away from your family and it’s OK. You’re gonna have to leave some of those friends, but honey, it’s OK. The real purpose, the one ordained upon your head when you were sent into this body is much more important than their feelings. They’ll get over it.
No longer can you continue to dismiss or pass over those lucid dreams. They’re reminders of who you are. No more can you act as if you don’t see auras, know the future before it happens, see the Spirits who need healing, hear the downloads from your Guides, see the scenes projected through your eyes.
It’s real.
You are real.
Come out the broom closet and embrace your witchy self. I made a choice today to come out of mine. I guarantee, when you touch and agree with who you were always meant to be, everything you’ve dreamed, prayed, meditated, and petitioned for will be dropped in your lap.
I promise.
I’m here for you, sis.
All the Black Witches and Magicians of this world, are here for you.
With love.
