“You know we met Alex, right?” Jessy could have been talking about her and her late husband as far as anyone listening was concerned, but I knew what she meant. Besides, how would someone who had just contacted her to study know that history? No, I understood.
Back when I was 17, I had seen Jessy Radash perform at a concert being held for the kindred. Later, we would all lose so much. But I digress. We met and got along. It was an amazing night. Pepe was there and Two Witches (when it was just two males–before Jyrki Witch). Jessy invited me to visit if I was ever back in Salem.
That long story is part of my history and novels, but suffice it to say that as part of this process, I traveled back in time with Jessy and her husband to meet Alex Sanders. I suppose it was as much to see the root of my Wiccan studies as it was to get magical advice. Another group of witches was working diligently to take my magic from me–including my cords. I never called my cords Cingulum–just cords. If anything, I might call them my cincture. This was not odd in my family since one of my great-grandfather’s was clergy. Alex mentioned that he did not have cords of his own but offered to keep mine safe.
Yes, I am absolutely saying what you think I am and I want them back–along with the cord that is missing, all of my documentation, titles, certifications, and other belongings. I am not sure if cords can be dated, but they would likely date back to around the late 80s/early 90s but after his death. I earned my degrees very quickly from my studies with the Carson City Coven. Unfortunately, my first step-mother and other humans were allowed in to study and practice as well. While that did boost numbers, it led to lies and manipulations for their own power and financial gain.
I also want my little red book returned. It was NOT the Kathryn Paulson book. The book was unique to bloodborne witch study and is mine. Additionally, nothing in the book will work for any human. My paternal great-grandmother’s Book of Ways and all of our grimoires must also be returned to me. Lest any hands or eyes of the mainly mortal that have been upon them inappropriately or without permission wish to be stained and let rest fall where it may.
Jessy is older now and I am not sure she would ever publicly back-up this story. A part of me hopes I will receive a certified letter from her hand some time after her journey to the all to help me validate what I am saying and fill in the parts of my story that I have not yet remembered, but who is to say. Still, I have not heard from her since contacting her a couple of years ago. Alex Sanders died in 1988. Jessy could easily say they simply met him before he died and she has little to no knowledge of me. She was extremely reluctant to take me on as a student. I eventually just walked away, but she did offer me some wise advice, ‘Wicca is a religion. It sounds like you just want to practice witchcraft. Witchcraft is a part of Wicca, but it is not Wicca.”
Wanting to rely on my “witch power” was the reasoning the witch’s council used to suggest I study British Traditional Craft (which was not taught in the U.S.). What I did not realize is that family on my father’s side had already trained me in The Ways as part of our daily life. My studies and initiations into other traditions, including left hand path, led to me being shunned from Wicca. But they did not take into consideration the age in which others had initiated me into such traditions or that I was being continuously attacked by witches of the left hand path that were going unabated and unrestrained. Regardless of being non-human, I was an initiate and then high priestess. I should have been regarded and treated as such.
My inherent abilities (which they attributed to my being a supernatural being or extraterrestrial) is why I did a tour of shame among witches. Still, even with all of my power and abilities, they lived. This should have spoken volumes about who I was. Today, that would not be the case. I would defend myself to whatever extent was necessary and I would NEVER again kneel before the edicts or rules of some arbitrary human witch’s council of questionable ethics and bloodlines.
Nor will I be subjected to gaslighting by these humans. None of the kindred would do so. My name is known. I am known. Who I am–whether goddess, mermaid, vampyre, werewolf, witch, alien, or simply Nicole Anstedt–will be respected and acknowledged. I have studied and earned esteemed esoteric titles. I know what I know. I am who and what I am. I was born into this and I have earned it. Nor shall any deny my identity, my existence, or my training. I am.
To me, the truth is highlighted with the careful wording below.
Though in reading about the “girdle” or “belt” and even the Seax-Wica use of a spear, I can see why some would see this symbolism as being of Eve/Adan, designed to be used only by humans and not only anti-Chritian but anti-kindred. These were elements I could not or simply did not see as a child. Given this, along with what happened to me, it is not difficult to arrive at the conclusions Nicholas de Vere and others did about Wicca.