Who the FUCK cursed my dating life?

A 17 yo on Tinder finally confessed to not being 21 and now I have to have a whole little convo about why this is wrong like why the fuCK

Lately, I have been depressed. I thought writing – something I have loved all my life – is my curse. I thought I hurt people with my words, I thought I create distance between myself and those that I love.

I was wrong.

Writing is without doubt the greatest gift of my existence. I have seen the power my words have. I have seen it inspire so many people, change their lives with the principles I believe in. I have seen it transform into something bigger than all of us. I have seen it make and roar.

I was a fool to even hate myself – for being a writer, for being a lover of words. How could I doubt something that I spent my whole life fighting for? I admit I was way too over my head. There was so many things bothering me that I started to turn on my writing and detest it. I thought maybe because of my words, I was tearing people apart. I was making people feel bad about themselves just because they hurt me. And for that, I hate myself. I relied too much on my words to speak the truth even when written harshly. I’ll never forgive myself for doing that.

That’s why right now, I am trying to get back on my feet and be that old girl who writes just for the sake of writing. I have forgotten the reason why I am doing this and now I think I can start again.

I was the girl who loved living. I reveled in the joy of being alive. And it’s from that exhilaration that I get my enthusiasm and ardor to write beautiful things. I was the girl who fell in love, too. And I used my words to confess to him. My love is powerful, selfless, and true in all its form that’s why I was able to write many prose and poetry that only speak about him. Those were the days that I was happy writing. I was alive and very much in love.

It’s just that maybe the world took its toll on me. I’ve been too exposed to so much bad that I began to forget everything that made things beautiful and worth writing about.

But now, things have changed.

I’m back to my usual old self. I have learned to appreciate life again. I’m beginning to rediscover the amazing hues of sunrise and sunset, or the lulling patter of the rain. I’m beginning to realize the power of the sea and the mystery of the moon in the night sky. Indeed, I am back. The love I once felt then has been renewed, stronger. I still love the man who gave me a new reason to write. And, miraculously, he still loves me, too.

So there it goes. Life, love, and writing are what makes up my entire being. I have always been meant to write and I wouldn’t let anything change that.

I will live to love and write. I will love to live and write. I will write to live and love.

"From This Pain, I Will Rise" Curse Jar

A Curse Jar To Help to Return The Pain Felt By The Victim to Their Abuser


  • A Glass Jar (Must have a lid or stopper)
  • A Taglock (an item that belonged to them, a picture of them, a lock of hair, etc)
  • Black Salt (banishing, protection from further attacks by the abuser)
  • Lavender (depression, lack of sleep, restlessness)
  • Cinnamon (protection, binding, chaos)
  • Onion (causes strife)
  • Lemon (sourness, bitterness)
  • Hot Paprika (chaos, pain)
  • Cayenne Pepper (chaos, pain)
  • Ginger (bitterness)
  • Rosemary (taint their dreams, nightmares, cloud their vision)
  • Spit (disrespect, mainly for DNA connection) 
  • Black string (death, loss, mourning, depression, obscure their vision, bring out the worst, drama)
  • White candle (protection for caster/victim also can cause the abuser to have lack of ambition, blank their mind, disappear, make them (or yourself to them) invisible, push away their family)

All ingredients can be substituted out as the caster sees fit.

  1. Place their taglock at bottom of the jar before covering it completely with black salt.
  2. Next layer each ingredient on top of the other while focusing on the pain they caused. The order is as follows: first lavender, then cinnamon, onion, lemon, hot paprika, cayenne, ginger, rosemary, and spit if you feel comfortable doing so.
  3. Put the lid on the bottle or cork it before wrapping the black web that represents the poisonous fate that will befall them.
  4. Seal the jar with the white candle wax and wait for it to harden.
  5. Place the jar in the deepest dark corner of your room/closet or the basement before taking a deep breath because you deserve it. It can also be placed in the abuser’s home if it is safe to do so.
  6. Follow up with some self care and/or favorite cleansing method.

My Notes on What I Did:

For my taglock, I used my father’s sheet music copy of Every Breath You Take by The Police since he used it to get laid for the first time. I decided to do so since he’s always cared more about his ladies than his own kid.

I also used my spit because we share some of the same DNA sadly. Hopefully it will add the extra kick to this spell on this Father’s Day Eve. Be careful when spitting into the jar if you’re using spicy ingredients because putting your lips on the rim after pouring it in can cause an uncomfortable burn (I accidentally did this because I’m exhausted from work).

I hope that you found something that you could also use to help you heal from whatever occurred in your life and I wish you all the love and luck in the world. Feel free to adjust/change this to your magickal and personal needs. Do not be afraid to reach out if you feel you are alone or have any questions. ❤️