Born with a congenital heart defect.
Not expected to live past the age of thirteen.
Three open-heart surgeries by the time I was twenty eight.
Life-threatening complications, including the total collapse of one of my lungs.
A gut wrenching miscarriage.
Being out of work and filing for divorce.
The diagnosis of stage 3 congestive heart failure (there are only 4 stages) within the span of 6 months.
Living on borrowed time.
These experiences are the fire from which I was forged.
They forced me to look at my life, and question my faith.
I was raised Catholic, but often found myself wondering why I couldn’t feel a connection to God in his temples.
I was disenchanted with Catholicism and Christianity, and their dogmatic approach to personal divine connection. I had had clairsentient and divinatory experiences that were not accepted by either.
Four years prior to needing open heart surgery for the third time when I was 28-years old, I experienced seizures without any physiological origin. I spent a week in the hospital, and after every test possible, the doctor determined by EEG brain wave monitoring that the seizures were a result of abnormally elevated brain waves; the same ones responsible for emotional stimuli. The doctors took me off all seizure medications and advised me to stay away from over-populated social events, chaotic circumstances in everyday life, and to keep my stress levels to a minimum.
When I miscarried two years later, I looked up what it meant to have abnormally high emotional stimuli brain waves.
I’ve always known something was different about me, but I was shrugged off as being ‘dramatic’ or it was attributed to my ‘wild imagination’.
The event of my miscarriage I felt in my mind, body, and soul before I ever saw a doctor. For two weeks I felt, and knew, that I wasn’t pregnant anymore, even though my (now) ex tried to shrug it off as first-time mom jitters.
Eventually when I saw the doctor, he confirmed what I already knew, that I wasn’t pregnant.
At the time, I had no clue that the way I was feeling was remotely related to an extra-sensory ability.
Upon a late night google search, I discovered that it had a name; Empath/Clairsentient.
I was so excited for this knowledge because I had always felt things from myself and others that couldn’t be explained any other way, and I was starving to find others who understood what I’d gone through with being a clairsentient, a clear feeler.
Like the time I felt a close friend take his last breath at 4AM when I woke up unable to breathe. I called him but there was no answer. Several hours later his fiance informed me he had died in the night.
I followed every lead and link that had to do with clear feeling and was amazed that there were other people like me.
Once I established that I was a clairsentient, I kept digging. I couldn’t learn enough. I read about all the extra-sensory abilities and determined that I was claircognizant. I knew things sometimes that I had no way of explaining other than knowing.
The discovery of being a clairsentient and claircognizant, combined with my long standing disillusionment with Christianity and its lack of divinity started me on the path to discovering witchcraft.
The values of witchcraft, and the treatment of deity within the Craft, was exactly how I’d always felt. I never understood why God was a man because to me, God never felt gendered or human.
To me, God is both masculine and feminine. Witchcraft does not prescribe a gender to God energy but rather promotes the idea that God can be neither, one, or both depending on the practitioner. In short, some witches need the masculine hand of God, some witches need the feminine touch of the Goddess, and some witches need the balance of both.
I need both.
One of the first spells I ever cast was to attract like minded people to me that I could converse with and learn from in person. I specifically wanted a mentor.
My intention was clear and the magick woven that night was strong. About a month later, I began reading Tarot at a metaphysical shop in my area where I was introduced to an open circle of witches. The leader became my mentor and I started hosting open circles and Tarot workshops with the owner of that shop.
I met my first deity before my personal dedication. Aine, queen of the Tuatha de Dannan, bestowed upon me my magickal name, Allorah. For me, deity always sends signs that they are near. She came to me in my dreams, through a childhood movie (Willow, to be exact) and through Celtic music. Each time she came, I had a deep knowing and a bodily vibration (my clairsentient alarm) that
THIS. WAS. IMPORTANT.
It's been over a decade since life initiated me onto the path of the witch.
I know how it feels to be the uncertain beginner and I know how it feels to blossom confidently into your magick.
My journey was and remains more of a remembrance than a learning.
I am a Witch that didn’t decide to become a witch.
I am a witch who had forgotten who she was all along.
This is my story, though far from over.