I Waited Until 45 To Call Myself A Witch (When Magic Did Not Exist, I Felt Alone)


I was 45 years old before I began applying the title of witch to myself. Not because I didn’t feel it in my soul from my earliest recollections, but because I’d had to suppress so much about myself for so long.

As a child, I was a weirdo, an oddball, a misfit. I was old for my age from the time I was young. I checked out every book about the paranormal, supernatural, occult, and magical worlds in my elementary school and public libraries. I poured over them each and every time I checked them out, which was often and repeatedly. I secretly repeated spells and crafted ‘magical’ recipes from things I found outdoors.

I collected rocks, plant specimens, leaves, pine cones, and innumerable other things from yards, fields, woods, and secret locations. My spells, secret rituals, and collections had to remain hidden, for fear of being discovered and misunderstood. I felt alone.

And so it remained for decades. I continued to feed my hunger for arcane knowledge through books, later through TV shows, and much later, the internet. Though putting that knowledge into practice was impossible. I had married too young and to a man who abused and brainwashed me into being who I wasn’t. I had a child. I worked. I went to college. My mundane life drowned out the part of me that had been magical and connected to the trees, skies, animals, and earth.

Without explanation, I made sure my son paid attention to the moon, the constellations, and meteor showers. Even if it meant lying in the cold on a blanket in our yard to see them. It was my last connection to the things that I’d loved so much as a kid.

Magic did not exist in my life for so long. And I felt alone.

The Universe wasn’t done with me yet. Eventually, I found the strength to leave. A dim light shone through the cracks of the heavy door to the dusty library that was my witchy mind. For the first time in years, I bought and read occult books again. I collected rocks, grew herbs, and gathered bits and pieces of the natural world. Something in me began to stir. Witchy people started showing up in my life. Still, I kept that part of me hidden from most of the outside world. And I still felt alone.

But my own voice was returning. What started as a low moan built to a bellow and then a howl. And I raged. I grieved the decades forever lost. I keened for all the years I had to disguise my true self and deny the parts of me that are seer, healer, diviner, and witch.

My howl, it still rises. No longer for myself alone, but for the brothers and sisters still kept silent by the people in their lives. I shriek as the harpy for our sisters held down by those in power. Like the Banshee, I join my voice with others to wail in grief at the loss of our freedoms and to demand change.

And now at 50, I’m growing comfortable with my witchy-ness. I’m happy to wear the mantle of Crone, Wise-Woman, Cunningfolk, Granny-Witch. I still study and collect and conjure. My tiny shelf of books has grown to a small library, and my arcane collections now fill several cabinets.

And I am no longer alone.

For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends The Universe Has Your Back: Transform Fear to Faith.

Sip a little more:

Walpurgisnacht, Witches & Ancestors

An Invitation To Witches And Wolf Women

Stop Denying Your Witchiness — Rise Through Shame And Fear

"She drifted off not in comfort but as an escape. Surely, in her effort to be truly seen, she would be abandoned. Surely, she was destined for a lonely life of wayward journeying and selfish, spiritual questing. In this moment, just now as the lamp burned out and her world had never been so dark, she was so asleep she had no choice but to awaken." —Danielle Dulsky of @wolfwomanwitch #NEWMAGIC #WOLFWOMAN Read more:


Wendy Konzelmann

Wendy Konzelmann is a former newspaper journalist and current belly dance performer, instructor, event producer and studio owner. She has been on her eclectic path since childhood and is drawn to the moon, animals, birds, the woods and ocean. An avid reader, she also enjoys gardening, collecting all manner of stones, crystals, wooden boxes, jars, journals and oddities of all kinds, spending time in nature and avoiding sunburn at the beach. Her magical interests include folk medicine, herbalism, studying ancient knowledge, and the history of witchcraft in the United States and around the world.

  1. Diane Overcash

    Excellent, well-written article. I want all of use to return to ourselves.

  2. Gabriella Laughingbrook

    Well lookatchu momma! This is a very pleasant surprise. I am super excited for you. This piece pleased me and humbled me; I am thrilled for your emergence and claiming your witchyness. At the same time, I am reminded of laying my own claim to my identity as a “witch” at age 18. I was grateful to cut the ties that had necessitated the witch—to survive a very violent childhood. But still I’ve lived all my life as a defiant, self directed witch and am aware of what a critical edge that has given me. I can only say that I am jubilant EVERY time a Witch takes her power, and consider myself extraordinarily lucky if she lives within my own Village. 🌹

  3. Thank you for sharing! 🙏

  4. Cindy Crawford

    What does being outdoors and collecting stuff have to do with being a witch? Where do men fit in? I’m not trying to be insensitive but this doesn’t make sense. The things discussed above can be interpreted in a normal persons life. Such as my own. I

  5. Pingback: ***NEEDS BIO*** I Am A Witch, I Am Magical & To Accept It In The Real World Scares Me Back Into My Shadow – The Urban Howl

  6. Pingback: I Am A Witch, I Am Magical & To Accept It In The Real World Scares Me Back Into My Shadow – The Urban Howl

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This