Thirty-three, Single, Childless, & a Witch
Photo by Alicia Goodwin
When I was a teenager, I thought I’d be married, have my own home, and be ready for kids by twenty-four. I only now realize how laughable that is. Not only is the economy shit, the world on actual fire, and bodily autonomy for women a figment of the past, but twenty-four at thirty-three sounds a lot like twelve. Looking back, I am aware that I barely even knew myself then. I was only just starting to bloom into the woman I am now. In fact, unexpectedly, thirty-three has been a bit of a golden year for me.
I finally feel like I know who I am at my core and I am more aligned with my path. I spend my days and my evenings exactly how I want, give a firm “no” when something doesn't serve me, and I am one of the healthiest versions of myself. I am taking care of my body and my mind. I am taking time and reserving energy for creative endeavors, like writing what will be my first self-published book of poetry. I am developing strong and clear boundaries at work and in my personal life. I have my own home, am respected within the professional realm, and personal goals abound. One at a time, I am manifesting exactly what little-girl-me wanted. My inner child is beaming.
You see, like many other women, during a defenseless stretch in time, Disney influenced me in ways I still regret. I had a fairly unhappy home and as a child does, I lost myself in fantasy. I used to daydream about meeting my prince charming and absconding beyond the horizon, towards a life rife with magic and gaiety. I dreamed about forgetting my problems and being made new by the healing powers of love, pouring into the emptiness I felt inside and suturing each cicatrize.
Quite naturally, that fanciful and dangerous thinking groomed me for several toxic and damaging relationships in my teens and twenties. The brainwashing was real. I sincerely bought into the idea of a man “rescuing me,” despite the fact that data proves time and time again, it’s actually the other way around more often than not. Look at the epidemic of single, lonely guys out there. Yet, in 2023, I have finally de-centered men.
It’s been a long time coming and it certainly hasn’t been a linear course, but I am so content to be single and centering myself these days. I am able to focus on what brings me joy and rest when I need it. I am able to focus on my growth. I am able to travel. I feel free. I am remembering that in my younger years, I used to always say I didn’t want kids and I am rethinking all the unconscious programming I’ve had since then. I am coming to a place where I am realizing I really don’t want children.
Honestly, the only time I have ever seriously contemplated children is when my hormones were altered by love and trauma bonding. In reality, if I'm being truthful, my goals have never included children. Throughout my entire existence, whenever I pictured my future, children were always perched somewhat translucently on the horizon, like amorphous phantoms that floated near imperceptibly and never fully came into focus.
Photo by Alicia Goodwin
That hasn’t changed. My goals are always very active and driven tasks. I want to climb a mountain. I want to write a book. I want to swim across Walden Pond. I want to learn more about Norse mythology. I want to see the whole world. Children are never present. Instead, there’s always this voice in my head whispering “Later, later,” but later never gets any sooner.
It feels like having kids is more of a societal obligation or a fragment of an unfulfilled fantasy which I no longer need to feel safe than a verifiable desire. It feels odd, knowing that the girl I imagined raising will likely never come to be, but I’m okay with that. I’m reparenting my inner child and turning myself into her. So maybe in a way, she is real. In this way, I am also not making the tragic mistake many parents make, trying to heal themselves through their children.
To be candid, childbirth scares the hell out of me anyways and I’ve never looked at a baby and wanted one. In fact, I’ve always felt very othered when I watch people interact with newborns and toddlers. I seem to recoil while they lean in. It’s not that I don’t like kids (I am a teacher after all), but I like them best when they are reasonably self-sufficient and capable of critical thought. It’s too much pressure to be “on” all the time and I’m far too aware that the majority of emotional and domestic labor still falls on women. I want to live an untethered and unburdened life. I want simplicity. I want to stay connected to myself. I think that’s enormously difficult to do when you are raising a family.
I’m also not sold on modern relationships. I used to blame myself for “choosing the wrong kind of men,” but after finding a community of women across several generations with the same experiences, I realize how misogynistic it is to blame women (including myself) for the poor behavior of men. This is especially true when we consider how many men deceive us into believing they are entirely different people from the jump and thus manipulate our devotion.
Moreover, heterosexual relationships still benefit men much more than they do women and I don’t want to settle for a partner. In fact, I wholly refuse to commit to anyone who isn’t functionally adding to my life, and I have a pretty good thing going. Don’t get me wrong. I am open to having a long term partner and in some ways would deeply appreciate that kind of companionship, but I am also very content to stay single, especially if the balance I have created in my life will suffer as a result of a man being unable to meet me where I am.
Photo by Alicia Goodwin
This past summer I went hiking as a solo traveler in Washington state at Mt. Rainier National Park and my soul was elated by the fairytale-like views of wildflowers speckling the peaks and valleys of the land. All alone and as near to the summit as possible without gear equipped for scaling glaciers, I sat on an outcropping of rocks that stood like giants against the sky. I felt strong and capable of anything. I felt calm, and curious, and invigorated. I was more than three thousand miles away from anyone I knew, and I was totally at home and at peace in my body.
I don’t know many people who arrive at this level of comfort alone with themselves. Unfortunately, questionable mental health often remains untreated, and pain, insecurity, and self-loathing are kept at bay with drugs, alcohol, and other limiting distractions. Yet, I feel very comfortable alone. I trust myself and my intuition completely. I can count on myself. I enjoy my own company. I have even begun meditating. And I am in love with discovering a deeper side of myself.
When I was thirteen, I used to study witchcraft and the yawning layers of its history. I had a fascination with candles (so much so that I had about three dozen of them in just my own bedroom) and lingered in metaphysical shops. I dabbled in the occult, scaring my friends with Ouija boards and burning little squares of paper in elementary banishing rituals. I relished the night and the moon and yearned for a four legged familiar with whiskers and an upturned tail. One day, I buried that side of myself for twenty years.
Recently, a feminist Tik Tokker, hope_peddler, put out a video illustrating the trajectory of women unpacking patriarchy and I have to admit, it gave me a good chuckle in the best way. It’s entirely spot on, especially the surprise ending. Spoiler alert: she says women end up converting to witches. And here I am.
I was forced to attend Christian mass until I was fourteen years old, when I was finally able to make my own decisions regarding my spirituality. I never appreciated the Bible or its doctrine and in fact, still harbor a strong aversion towards its supposed ethics. My extrication, of course, occurred just as I was discovering Wicca through a book series I had been reading regarding a teenage girl who joins a coven and realizes she is an ancestral witch. Unfortunately, though the underlying paganism of Wicca called to me, as a religion it was still a bit dogmatic, and didn't deviate from a belief in superior beings. When I was evicted from my childhood home, I gave up my expedition in witchcraft in favor of dating, attending college, and establishing my career.
Photo by Alicia Goodwin
As an adult who is finally coming out of survival mode, I am finally able to return to the path I abandoned. Furthermore, I now know paganism is an extremely wide umbrella term and that there are as many variations in practice as there are naysayers. When explaining my beliefs, I typically gravitate towards the identifier “pagan” because prejudice against the word “witch” is so embedded within Hollywood stereotypes that most people interpret it as either demonic or laughable. Yet, the word “witch” has always meant “wise woman” and needs not refer to anything traditionally evil or supernatural.
The largest part of my practice is honoring the turning of the wheel, or to put it in layman’s terms, celebrating the changing of the seasons and the cycle of life. Witches tend to believe there are many life cycles within the greater arc of human life and we embrace all the different versions of ourselves, including our shadow selves. We aim to explore the liminal, the space between, and keep an open mind. My practice focuses primarily on meditation and poetry. I use affirmations to create new neural pathways and positive trends within myself. I use a variety of tools to create an aesthetic that matches the energy of my intentions and I match my words to my actions in the mundane world. I weave my own fate.
Photo by Alicia Goodwin
It’s ironic because many people scoff at the idea of spellcraft, yet barely blink at the mention of prayer. Yet, for centuries we’ve known words have power. In point of fact, science and witchcraft often intersect. There is science behind manifestation and replacing negative thoughts with positive ones. There is a wealth of history pertaining to eastern medicine and the use of herbs. Meditation has been shown to increase mental and physical wellness.
So while some may balk at the idea that anyone could be fulfilled without children, be satisfied without a romantic partner, or believe that the mindful manipulation of energy can have tangible results, I'm rather charmed to be at the center of this unlikely trinity. I feel like I keep leveling up and I am eager to see how my path develops. I am an adventurer at heart and right now, I never want my journey to end.