1/7/2024 0 Comments Teenage witchIn case you’re picturing Hogwarts, I should say that the scene of my mystical education was a cluttered shop next to a chippy in suburban Birmingham. Joe aged 12: ‘A money spell led to me finding £10 in the street.’ Photograph: courtesy of Joe Stone In the end, I plumped for being bestowed unimaginable powers, but it was a close call. I was torn between Toni & Guy hairdressers (proximity to gay men meant that I might finally lose my virginity and/or emerge with a trendy mullet), or the nearest metaphysical supply store (I was pretty sure they’d teach me to levitate). I was delighted.īy the time I was 15, I had to choose where to do my mandatory week of work experience. When a money spell led to me finding £10 in the street, I became convinced I was channelling powers – dangerous ones – beyond my comprehension. Still, I felt sure that my ascent to a higher frequency was simply a matter of time, dedication and copious amounts of sandalwood oil. Nine times out of 10, this rapture would be interrupted by my sister storming into my room to reclaim her nag champa incense sticks. Reciting incantations in a hushed voice, I’d feel the veil between our world and the next begin to shimmer. Surrounded by flickering candles, smoking incense and crudely drawn pentagrams, my senses would heighten as I cast a magic circle with my wand. I wasn’t raised in religion, so had no prior experience of the altered states that can be achieved through ritual. I spent a lot of time performing midnight rituals designed to make myself popular, and no time at all wondering whether the lingering scent of mugwort was stopping me getting invited to the cool parties. Evenings were consumed by asking my tarot cards if I’d ever meet a Spice Girl or (this felt like a reach) have physical contact with another man. (Unless you’ve actually visited Merry Hill shopping centre in Dudley, it’s impossible for me to impress upon you just how much that was Never Going To Happen.) My favourite book was Teen Witch by Silver Ravenwolf, largely because the cover illustration featured four girls and one boy, the precise gender ratio that teenage gay boys need to feel safe. In lieu of a social life, weekends were spent hovering around the mind, body and spirit section of our nearest Waterstones, hoping that a passing witch might invite me to join her coven. It was clear that I stood more chance of communing with the spirits of the four quarters than with my actual classmates. I wasn’t into football, or South Park, or casual racism. As a heroically camp child who was obsessed with Richard Madeley, I knew that any chance of leading a happy and fulfilled school life would require serious occult intervention. Other kids might have imagined life would be perfect if only their parents hadn’t divorced, or they’d made it into the football team, or could will themselves to go up a bra size. Factor in that witchcraft is an established gateway to boys wearing eyeliner and sure, I was interested. Candles? Capes? Crystals? I shouldn’t have to join the dots. At that age, you already have a secret that you’re terrified might get you set alight – of course you identify with the maligned women of Salem. I began to wonder whether people drawn to mystical realms really were charmed souls, or misfitsĪs an adult, I’ve realised that a teenage obsession with witchcraft is much more common among kids who grew up to be queer.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |