Witchvox Article

Author: daytime dreamer
Posted: January 31st. 2010
Times Viewed: 2,003

The title I chose for this essay is long, but it explains very well the ride I’ve taken in the last three years. I’ve gone from keeping secrets to having to explain myself to others. I guess that officially I’m out of the closet to my family and my closest friends. When I told them, there was arguing and confusion, which I expected. But then something funny happened. Everybody seemed to forget.

For me this was great; it really was. I didn’t have to hide to books I was reading or the websites I was on at the computer. When I closed the door to my bedroom or my sister or parents smelled incense, they left me alone. I experience what was probably the greatest freedom I had ever been given, no matter how angry or upset my parents were.

However, I knew it wouldn’t last forever, and it didn’t. What I’m talking about here just happened recently. My sister was the only person who still knew—almost four years after that first after dinner conversation—which I had never given up on my Wiccan beliefs.

Even worse? She knew the location of my book of shadows and my other books and journals.

We had a fight, like all sisters must do at least once. She had promised me all those years ago that she trusted me and would keep my secrets if I’d keep hers. Guess what? Blood might be thicker than water, but anger can overrule years of trust and friendship.

I thought we’d finished with our fight and I was in my room with headphones on when my sister came running in the room with my mother right behind…

“Go ahead mom, look under her bed.”

I knew exactly what she had told my mother instantly, because all I keep under my bed is a box of old magazines I cut up for school projects sometimes, and behind those…not only did my mother confiscate my book of shadows but she searched the rest of my room as well.

I was pretty upset by this time and all I could do was sit on the bed and watch her go through my things.

When she was done, my room was a mess. I wondered if this is what it felt like to have the police search your house. I don’t think I’ve ever been so mad in my life. When she left she told me to stay in my room while she went through my things, and she closed the door behind her.

This is when I considered the fight I had with my sister before about a secret she had made me promise I’d keep before she actually told me what it was. I don’t want to make her sound like a bad person, but what was I supposed to do when a thirteen year old does drugs? Tell my parents? I was going to, and that was the problem.

So I did.

When my face was a little less red and tear covered, I went right into that living room and did what I believed was the right thing…and I got in trouble for not telling them sooner!

I had to make another promise, this time to my parents that I would tell them about things like that when I find out about them. It might help my sister I hope, but I know I have lost her trust for pretty much ever and she has lost mine. I won’t be able to tell her about anything else without wondering who will hear it. Not just my parents, her friends too, whom I’ve caught her telling nasty things about me. A no win situation for anyone.

But there was still something else to deal with and deal with it we did—and do you know what? I’m glad. I would almost be grateful to my sister for telling if she hadn’t handed them my book of shadows. I write so much in it that’s personal, that no one else could really understand. And imagine: my parents read it all.

Only, it led to something that I hadn’t imagined it could:

Acceptance…no matter how begrudging it may be or how slowly it was given. It also led to the first real calm reasonable conversation about my religion that I’ve had with my parents thus far. It was actual intelligent conversation.

We discussed the differences between the beliefs of Christians and Wiccans, as well as my mom’s fear that I was bringing evil demons into the house and that we’d end up living one of those horror-movie-haunting stories. I even got to talk to them about what I liked about Wicca and The Goddess.

The other big confession…that even though I had always believed that their had to be a god of some sort, I had never believed in the some of the things that I was told I should believe. This made me feel like the outcast among my peers because they all believed these things and went to church, and I didn’t.

I had always been afraid of burning in hell because of it and I still do have some trouble with that now. I think about it every time someone wants to remind me. I have mostly gotten over it now… but sometimes I wonder. I also wonder if my parents thought I was a stranger to them then, that they didn’t really know me—that’s how they looked at me while we were talking.

I got something else out of the conversation too…respect, at least from my dad who had nothing to do with my room being searched. He said that since I’m going to be seventeen soon, I should be able to make my own decisions… and since they can trust me, I’m entitled to my privacy.

However, he also added that even though its my choice what I believe, I’ll have to answer to God for it one day. My mom jumped in right there with: “You are not a witch. You can pretend all you want but you don’t have any magic powers.”

Well, I didn’t know how to answer that at the moment even though I could answer it now easily. I let it go. It didn’t really seem important.

I started out inside the broom closet to everyone except the friend who introduced me to Wicca. I told my family and friends, who did not believe me, so I jumped right back into the closet. Now my family knows and they take me seriously.

I might talk to my friends when school starts back but maybe not. Why stir something like this up again during senior year just so people could make fun of me and threaten me again? I don’t want to be shoved into any more walls with crucifixes pressed against my forehead and I don’t want to be asked if I can ‘turn anybody into frogs’. If I tell my friends, everyone will end up knowing. That’s just how it is.

It really is worth it to have my family know—and to laugh at my sister knowing that they don’t mind anymore. But coming out of the broom closet is a huge decision and one I wish I could have made for myself this time. It’s a ridiculous situation I ended up in, but now I can read essays on Witchvox or learn about Lughnasadh on the Internet even though the computers in the living room.

My dad was just standing right behind me and it’s not a big issue anymore that I’m on a website that’s decorated with a pentacle in the corner. It’s not a big issue that I wear my pentacle necklace on some days anymore. I can say 'this is me’ without my mother staring or my sister snickering and reciting The Lords Prayer when I walk by—btw, she needs to look up the words; I know them for real and she’s not saying them correctly! : )

To finish this rather lengthy and confusingly written essay I’m going to make myself a promise: I promise to be honest to others and to myself, whether the topic is my beliefs during a discussion at school or if it’s whatever it is that my sisters have done this week and shouldn’t have.

To any other teenagers who are in a situation similar to mine—the coming out of the broom closet thing, not the sister thing—I recommend telling your parents first and not your friends or siblings like I did. Parents have to listen to you and be around you—most of the time—but sisters, brothers, and friends do not. If you argue with those sisters, brothers or friends, they may not hesitate to tell on you… just to say ha-ha… no matter how much stress and hurt it could cause you.

About the sister—or in some cases brother—thing: don’t keep secrets for other siblings if it could cause them harm. If they are doing something stupid and potentially harmful rat them out. It’s your duty as a sister/brother and I personally know that now.

Good Luck and Blessed Be,

Destiny

Copyright: it took me a while to put all these thoughts together and there mine, dont take them please.

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daytime dreamer

Location: Darlington, South Carolina

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