How I Knew I Was A Witch

Ayodele Fuega2 Comments

My mama is a real BOSS WITCH. She loves witches but would never apply the term to herself, at least not these days. These days she'd simply call herself BLESSED and she would be speaking facts. I was talking to my gramma and mama on the phone a couple days ago and my mother's mother confirmed what I had noticed. "Your ma has always been blessed." I could hear my mother's soft laughter trickling through the phone like water. My little hurricane, a solstice baby, born on the cusp of gemini and cancer.

My whole life I have marveled at mama's ability to effortlessly make her desires happen and appear. She has weaved businesses and homes and opportunities our of ideas spoken allowed. She always seemed to be somewhere between the conversation she was having out loud with whomever happened to be present in the room and a world all her own. I used to be bothered by this distracted air of hers, until I noticed one day that I have the same dual-world air about me.

Mama has always been striving, setting new goals for herself, staying informed, chewing on ideas about whatever subjects interested her and spouting wisdom and judgment over other people. She speaks the hard truth regardless of how it is received and I do something very similar as well.

She taught me to identify foolishness and to choose, instead, to be extraordinary. She pushed me out of my comfort zone and damn-near demanded self-advocacy and enterprise. The first affirmations I ever heard poured from her mouth. The first religion I tasted came upon her decision. The first time I saw sisters gather together, hair wrapped in white cloth and praying were her friends. It was the 90s. And I did not have a word for it yet but I knew it was something. (Sisterhood.)

Ma has always been the example of freedom and diligence and of power and style. It is my heart's deepest pride to have been raised by a quirky, socially awkward, excellent, introverted, entrepreneur who has bent over backwards to instill the necessity of friendship between my siblings and me. She has always done the best she could.

She is the first person to ever notice my obsession with the moon and to call herself a witch, jokingly...but maybe, just maybe, detecting some truth in her own words.

She is the reason for my unshakable confidence. She taught me to love myself first and most and to not give a fuck about what "they" think of me. She taught me to be fearless and to choose my friends like my life depends on it. She taught me to know when something is beneath me and that I could have anything I wanted if I wanted it badly enough. (That is, bad enough to work for it.) She suggested work as a means to life more abundant and she buried the seed of prayer in my chest.

My mother is a magick woman. She used to rub my back until I fell asleep and when I would have nightmares she would tell me, "It's all right. If you have a bad dream, I will protect you. I will always protect you." She never failed real life she fought racists for me and divorced her husband for crossing a line with me. And in the dream realm she has attacked monsters with rabid wolves for me. Recently, I dreamed she had crossed over into the spirit realm. She came back as an ancestor to help me process the loss of her physical existence.

My mother is as sweet as she is cutting. She will let me fall for learning's sake and she will pick me up and heal me because she is a great mama...and has been the single greatest silent mystical teacher of my life. Someone asked me how I knew I was a witch.

I knew because of my mother.