i know tons witches, espcially on tumblr, always say this but a lot of times it dosnt seem true. those same blogs posting about “not needing tools” (myself included) reblog photos of sparkiling crystals and decorated altars. in comparison, our own practice can seem inadequate. but remeber that witchcraft is an old practice, and while over centuries this practice has grown and changed, the basis of the craft is old as fuck. the mothers of our practice most likely didn’t have access to a houndred different crystals, the entire whole foods spice rack, and dozens of specialized tools. the mothers of our craft were creative and worked with what was locally available, not $30 organic vanilla beans flown in from mesoamerica (unless that just so happened to be where they lived). the mothers of our craft were nifty and clever, and knew how to make everything out of anything. so, while beautiful, shimmering, lovely items are always nice -and can make us /feel/ witchy- our witch moms founded this practice without them.
DELENA FOREVER Appreciation Week | Day 3: Favorite Scene
“I wanted to apologize” “Good.” “Let me finish, I said I wanted to, and then I realized: I’m not sorry” “You would rather die than be human and you expect me to be okay with that?” “I didn’t say you were supposed to be okay with that, I just said I’m not sorry. But you know what I really am? Selfish; because I make bad choices that hurt you. Yes, I’d rather die than be human. I’d rather die right now than spend a handful of years with you, only to loose you when I’m too old, and sick, and miserable, and you’re still you. I’d rather die right now than spend my last final years remembering how good I had it and how happy I was because that’s who I am, Elena, and I’m not gonna change. And there’s no apology in the world that encompasses all the reasons that I’m wrong for you.” “Fine, then I’m not sorry either. I’m not sorry that I met you. I’m not sorry that knowing you has made me question everything; that in death you were the one that made me feel most alive. You’ve been a terrible person. You made all the wrong choices and of all the choices that I’ve made, this will prove to be the worst one, but I’m not sorry that I’m in love with you. I love you, Damon. I love you.”
I see sooo many posts showing support for those who have abusive or absent fathers so here’s one for those of you whom have mentally ill mothers who didn’t raise you right because they couldn’t.
This is for you, the ones with moms that suffer from bpd, ptsd, anxiety, depression, addiction, etc. The mothers that always go out, and the ones that never leave the house. I’m sorry she kept you sheltered growing up because she’s afraid of the world. I’m sorry for every name she ever called you out of anger and all the crying fits she made you feel responsible for. For all the times she scolded you for buying the wrong thing or not putting the dishes away correctly. I’m sorry you had to listen to her as she screamed at you at the top of her lungs as you begged her to leave you alone. I’m sorry you can’t open up to her. I’m sorry she can’t see what a blessing you are. I’m sorry she can’t be proud of you no matter how hard you’re trying, but I am. I’m proud of you.
You’re doing great, and you deserve to be happy and to be supported. It isn’t your fault that she is the way she is and you can’t fix her. Whether she refuses medication or abuses it, it’s not your fault. When you start to notice her illness rubbing off on you, it’s not your fault.
You’re more than good enough and it’s going to be okay. I promise.