There are moments on this path when the spiral of life brings you back to where it all began — not to repeat the past, but to rewrite the ending. This Samhain, as I step into Laurie Cabot’s legendary Witches’ Ball crowned in gold and crimson, I am not simply attending an event. I am walking through a portal of destiny — one that’s been quietly forming beneath my feet for decades.
🖤 The Child Who Carried Too Much
Many years ago, I crossed the threshold of this world from a very different doorway. I was still wrapped in the language and beliefs of Christianity, still searching for Spirit in the pages of scripture, and still trying to make sense of a life that had placed far too much weight on my small shoulders.
At just ten years old, I was placed in the care of an ex-family member — and what should have been a refuge quickly became another lesson in survival. Instead of being nurtured, I was used. Instead of being cared for, I was expected to care for others. I was a child playing the role of an adult, holding together a world that was not mine to hold.
It was during that same chapter of my life — 1997 — that I found myself working behind the scenes for one of Salem’s most well-known witches. I answered phones, booked readings, and set appointments for a psychic business that was never mine. At the time, I couldn’t see the irony: a young Christian girl facilitating magic for others while denying the ember of it already burning within her.
🔥 The Fire That Never Went Out
I didn’t know it then, but that ember was my soul’s calling. It burned quietly beneath the weight of duty and doctrine. It waited through seasons of betrayal, neglect, heartbreak, and rebirth. It flickered even when I questioned everything — and it grew brighter each time I remembered who I truly was.
Over the years, I shed skin after skin — daughter, caretaker, survivor, seeker — until finally I stepped forward as what I was always meant to be: a priestess of fire, a keeper of the temple within, a sovereign soul on a sacred path.
The faith that once confined me became the foundation of something far greater: an unshakable connection to Source, to Spirit, to the alchemy that lives in all things. And the girl who once took messages for other people’s magic? She became the woman who creates her own.
👑 The Return of the Flamekeeper
And so, here I am. Decades later, stepping into the same circle — but this time not as a helper, not as a background character, not as someone searching for belonging. I walk in as The Flamekeeper.
Draped in gold and crimson, crowned in jewels, robed in the fire of my own becoming — I walk into that Samhain Ball with the authority of a soul who has done the work. I enter not as the wounded child, but as the healed woman. Not as the believer trying to fit into someone else’s story, but as the witch writing her own.
This is more than a costume. It is an initiation. A coronation. A reclamation of every piece of myself I once had to hide.
🔮 The Spell Has Been Cast
Samhain marks the end and the beginning. It is the death of what no longer serves and the birth of what’s destined to rise. And as the veil thins this year, I will stand in the very room where I once played small — and I will take up space. I will speak with the voice I once silenced. I will shine with the fire I once dimmed. And I will honor the child who carried too much by letting the woman she became carry nothing but her crown.
This is the power of the spiral.
This is the magic of full circle.
And this is the spell I cast now — for myself, for those who came before me, and for everyone who has ever believed they were too small to stand in their own sovereignty:
🔥 We rise. We reclaim. We reign.
Mainely Mystics 
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