All of me or none of me – my intuitive abilities do not exist in parts.
When you tell me that astrology isn’t real, you strip me of my magic. In essence, you are telling me that I am not real.
I am not asking,
‘Do you believe in magic?’
I am asking,
‘Why don’t you believe in me?’
You call those reclaiming their magic impostors, but how could I possibly be born a betrayal to my most authentic nature?
My body is moved by the stars, it cannot be controlled by you. You tell us that the planets do not dance in our favour, and that we exist only at the mercy of your axis. My bleed is in the ways the moon baptises me every month and in the way the sky reminds me to grieve every body that has bled to birth you – bled to save you – bled at the hands of those we raised.
The truth is, my magic ensures that I am never alone. Just as birth brings me closer to every woman and birthing person that has come before me, every time I bleed it reminds me that I am connecting to every single woman and bleeding person alive right now.
Your fences and prisons cannot seperate the ways I yearn and cry and pray and nurture the dreams & children of my sisters and friends.
Please do not diminish the things I see, the things I feel, the ecosystem and the economy of the ways I am half goddess, half mortal – blessed by my curse and cursed by my blessings. We chose to fall from celestial freedom and give up wings of an angel, to care for you here. The least you could do is celebrate what we are…or at the least, – do not accuse us of evil or lies, as if you are above the place you were born from and the stars your body is made of.
I am not here to convert you, I’m here to command respect.