Any good spellbook, grimoire, or magickal reference book provides some basics of witchcraft first. This book doesn't stray too far from that tradition as it would be irresponsible not to include foundational information. This is a queer book though, which means as I lay down these foundations for you, everything from here on out is presented through a strictly queer lens with the above manifesto in mind.
I know that I have probably left out some people's favorite forms of magick in this list. There are infinite ways to express a Pagan or witchy spirituality, and I could not possibly include them all—especially not in a book that isn't devoted solely to different kinds of magick. I did seek to include the most commonly used forms of magick and the types of magick that are accessible at various price points, including zero dollars. I want even the most broke witch, the one struggling with housing and food access, to be able to able to use all of the elements and create beautiful magickal works in their life. Some of these will cost money, but none are more effective than the others. What does make any kind of magick or spells more effective is layering. Layering is the act of adding different tools and skills to a basic spell to boost or underscore it. If you write a list as a spell, layering would mean drawing a sigil on it, waving it over a candle's smoke, or kissing it when you're done as a mild form of personal sex magick.
The earliest recorded days of witchcraft and Paganism included deep, beautiful chants and songs and very little else. It doesn't matter if it was Earth-worshipping Druids, followers of Norse Gods, or devotees of Egyptian Gods—it all came down to how deeply our voices were heard by speaking or writing them. This is still a powerful form of magick, and one I'm quick to employ. There's a very modern tendency to rely on the old chants, songs, and spells that we can find in old-fashioned grimoires and spellbooks. I understand that compulsion. It feels witchier and that feeling can be an important boost to our spell. In the end, though, it's just a feeling. Just because something is from ancient times (however you're defining that) does not mean it's more magickal or powerful. The people creating those poems and singing those songs weren't trying to write something timeless that would be used for centuries to come. They were simply calling out to their gods in the vernacular of their time.
If you want a powerful money spell, you don't need to rely on a prosperity spell that was used in harvest times of yore before currency was even invented. It's just as effective to write a letter to a god or to the Earth pleading your case and explaining what you need the money for. It's just as effective to list your goals and stick them on your altar. If you are more artistic or writery than that, then you can absolutely write your own songs and poems that speak to your spiritual connections and desires, and trust me—those will be as well met as any formal group ritual or ancient chant.
As queer people, remembering the potency of our voices is especially important. We live in a world that is constantly trying to silence us, and if we're survivors of personal trauma on top of that, we have likely spent a lot of time learning to make ourselves small and invisible. If we're lucky, we've gotten the help, love, and resources we need to unlearn that. We're still unlearning it though, and it can take a literal lifetime to proudly come into our voice and state our desires, whether they're personal or collective. Starting at a place in your craft where you are directly highlighting your voice, how you're feeling, and what you want is not only an important way to come into your own as a witch, but also is a powerful act of reclamation that frankly, you deserve.
This section is titled “Writing Poems, Letters, Lists.” There is no wrong thing to write to cast a spell or even just feel out your voice. I am a terrible poet and sometimes I don't care because it's for the Earth and not for me, but sometimes it makes me too self-conscious for my magick to be effective. My money magick usually consists of several parts but it usually starts with a list of my financial goals and immediate needs and then I add a list of long-term goals. I write a lot of letters—to my family, to my friends, and yes, to my gods. Letters are actually one of my favorite things in the world, and so my witchcraft letters are soaked in love and passion. The reason I listed so many options for magickal writing and left an open-ended “more” is because what you're writing isn't important. I've written skits for my gods. I have friends who write chants and songs. Wherever you feel strongest is where you should aim your witchcraft writing, and if in regular practice of that you get newly inspired, that's okay, too.
Some of you are reading the above section and saying to yourself “that sounds great, but I'm really not so good at the words doing.” I would first like to say that A) it doesn't matter, the intention is the point, but also, B) that's okay! We want you to be confident to start, and another really evocative form of magick is creating visual art. This can be a photo you took and had printed off of your family if you're working ancestral magick. It can be a painting of endless Celtic knots or spirals to remind yourself that life is about cycles and you'll come out of this one okay. It can be a sculpture you created of a god that you're interested in invoking or working with. Just like with writing, the only rules are that you should be confident in what you're doing and that it should have a specific intent (even if the intent is “to be happier” or “to be more magickal”).
In terms of queer identity and visual art, so many of us are artistically inclined that it almost goes without saying that this is a potent form of magick for queer witches to try. Even if you yourself are not visually creative or skilled enough to give this a go at this time, buying art from local queers that speaks to your altar (or an upcoming spell) and displaying it proudly is a solid way to keep that energy vibing throughout your space for the foreseeable future. Not everyone is verbally or literarily inclined, but visual art is another way for queer people to start reclaiming their voice and space in this world. Sometimes we don't operate in words and clear thought, we operate in colors and feelings. That's an energy you're encouraged to bring into your life as a witch too, and it's one that visual art (your own or someone else's) can really allow you to thrive in.
Sometimes our practice includes writing, visual art, or both and over time we notice that there are distinct words and themes that come to the surface of our practice no matter which form of magick we've been using. These often drive at deeper needs that developed and weren't met for a sustained period of our life. This can be scars from trauma or oppression, or it could be a need or desire we never learned to voice. In either case, a deeper healing is needed. In these times, words can still be our deepest allies even if we feel like we aren't good at them.
Incantations and mantras are all of that pain, those needs, those desires condensed into short, quick verbal spells like:
“With the power inside of my heart and gut, I will attract a new lover thus.
But I am content until they come and I am joyful on my own.”
Or . . .
“As I work throughout the day, I attract so much money to me.”
Or . . .
“I am connected to my gods and the Earth in all things.”
Or even just . . .
“I deserve to be happy.”
Incantations and mantras can be said at the start of your day, in your head while you're brushing your teeth, out loud in between taking your meds, or hummed to yourself while you're feeding your pets. They can be spoken any time you get anxious about your intention not being met throughout the day. Write them in a journal, put them on sticky notes on your mirror or the fridge, set an alarm on your phone that sends them through to you.
Words have power, and, while I am a believer in manifestation, I do not think that oppressed people create oppressed circumstances because of lack of self-esteem or anything else. I do not think that people deserve their trauma or illness because they didn't think positively enough. Sometimes things happen simply because other humans, and the institutions they've built and run, are terrible. That's it! That's the reason! Still, our words do have power and the most important words need to be repeated back to ourselves over and over again. That's where incantations come in. So often as marginalized people, our healing and our abundance is up to us. That isn't because it should be or because it's fair, but because often we don't have other options. Yet thinking about taking charge of your circumstances and trying to outsmart The Man is incredibly daunting. We can start by writing out a few incantantions, putting them everywhere, repeating them often, and trusting our inner power to allow those shifts in language to cause shifts in our behavior that cause shifts in our life. It's not a perfect art, because we still love in a society full of hate. It can, however, dramatically alter the power and autonomy we feel in our lives, and that can open an infinite number of doors for ourselves.
When we grow up queer, especially if we grow up in the closet or in an unsafe area, we learn to be very careful about when and where to speak our attractions or desires. Often our parents or the communities we grow up in reinforce the idea that we need to be quiet about what and how we feel. Over time this disconnects us from our inner voice and our own intuition. I want to say that, first and foremost, this is not our fault. A lot of us who grew up in traditional and queerphobic faiths have also learned to internalize guilt and wield even our own sheepishness against ourselves. That's a lie though—it's not our fault, at all, that we do any of this, or that we've become disconnected from our own divinity.
The first steps to getting your divinity back can often be linked to intentional time spent trying to connect with it again. Prayer itself is one way to do this. It doesn't matter to whom. It doesn't have to be to anybody. Prayer is so easy, free, and accessible that anyone can do it. It's also such a beautiful connector to divine energy that everybody should do it. I also recognize from experiencing it firsthand, that those who grew up in a prayer-heavy faith might have trouble connecting to this too-familiar path that might even make you feel kind of icky at the start. I'm not trying to override your religious trauma. If you try a prayer to the Earth, a god, your ancestors, the Universe, love, and it doesn't work, if your inner critic comes out or your trauma screams “wrong,” that's okay. Step away for a few minutes. You'll get there. Try easing into it slowly. A quick prayer that is literally just “thank you” when you get unexpected luck or a despairing “please help” when you're feeling your absolute worst is enough. The intention is clear. The Divine is listening. You'll grow slowly from there.
Prayer has, over time, become a way I fill time on bus rides, waiting for clients who are late, and trying to fall asleep at night. It also keeps me rooted in Divine energy all day long and therefore helps me bring that same consistent energy into my practice. I have learned that the gods didn't hurt me. People did. Society did. Institutions developed by the power holders in our society did. My gods only ever stepped in to help. It's okay if you're not there yet, but by slowly easing into prayer, eventually you will be. From there it's only a matter of time until you feel comfortable using prayer as a form of spell. For those of us who are already there, think of prayer as a way to cast small spells of gratitude, closeness, and your daily goals throughout the day. Sometimes I write down my prayers, mostly I don't. Divine energy isn't necessary for witchcraft unless you want it to be, but for those of us who do rely on it, prayer is the way in.
Wishes are a form of magick too, though you often don't realize it at the time. I often tell witchcraft students or tarot clients to be diligent with their wishes because if we really want something in the moment and really send it out there as something forceful, they are likely to come back to us in some form or fashion (within reason). That person might not fall in love with you, but you might find that person's best traits with someone else. Or, if you weren't careful with the wish, it could be their worst. Wishes can happen on shooting stars and eclipses, they can be said during ritual or in our beds when we're crying late at night. There are wishing spells and rituals, some of which are included later. Some of those you already know. Throw a penny in a well. Wish upon a shooting star. This is a form of magick, and for queer people who are feeling disconnected from their ability to pray, it functions in a relatively similar way.
Another thing I lump in with wishing and praying is meditation. Meditation is also flexible, but the basics are to find a seated position where you're relatively comfortable. I know for those in chronic pain or in a wheelchair that might be difficult, and I know you won't get to total relaxation—that's okay. Get as comfortable as you feasibly can. I tend to recommend closing your eyes, because life is distracting. If you're physically able to, fade into deep, even breathing. If you can't do that or even temporarily can't, still focus on what your breath is doing naturally, as it's able to. Try to clear your mind—really try. A lot of people are really resistant to meditation because they can't clear their mind for that long. Some of them have perfectly valid reasons for feeling that way—anxiety disorders, ADHD, a legitimately overpacked to-do list that they haven't really chipped away at yet. These are exactly the people who should be meditating, though. The dirty little secret of meditation is that it's actually startlingly rare for people to clear their minds for any length of time. Most of the work is in trying to clear your mind. This practice alone, believe it or not, does deepen your connection to your own intuition over time. Your intuition is often what connects you to spiritual energy, and developing this takes time but is completely doable.
Once you're pretty skilled at getting into a clearer headspace (knowing that it's rarely a perfect art), you can start doing either guided or self-guided meditations for specific purposes. Your incantations can come in here. Get into that clear headspace and then just think your incantations. If you are in a panic prior to meditation, you can just repeat them over and over. If you're having a good mental health day you can say them once, allow the words to sink into your body and your brain, and then repeat them. Take it slow again.
For queer magick users who have been disconnected from their own voice, meditation is a game-changer. You sit there connecting to your body and what it's trying to tell you and you find pretty quickly that the practice works. Meditation alone can continue to serve as a form of witchcraft, regardless of whether we're trying to clear our minds or attract certain energies to us. I try to meditate every morning, before I jump into any physical therapy I need to do that day. I don't always get there, but I do manage to clear my head for long enough to focus on a goal for the day. From there I can connect back to that energy more easily throughout the day, again, keeping the witchy vibes flowing no matter what I'm doing.
Witch confession: I only starting working with sigils in the past year or so. Sigils are technically defined as any magickally infused picture, letter, or symbol. What most witches mean when they use them are a specific group of or aesthetic of symbols, similar to the one shown here.
Sigils like this are used most often in chaos magick, a form of ceremonial magick that doesn't pull from a specific line of witchcraft other than it's own. You don't have to be a chaos magician to use them though. The thing to know is that they're often thought of as signatures of angels or other spiritual entities. I often use them as messages from my loved ones who have passed on, or honestly just a magick symbol with energy from other planes or realms. Like most of the types of magick we've talked about in this section, sigils can be used for anything and everything. You can find sigils for any purpose under the sun by using Google Search, and most of those images are safe and bewitched for you to use.
Sigils can be drawn (or doodled!), carved into candles, or just scrawled into your journal or grimoire (more on that later). You can keep any that are done on small pieces of paper on your altar, in your wallet, in your pocket, or bra, wherever. I tend to not think of these as spells themselves. They're more like spell booster or amplifiers. That's not true for everyone of course, and there is one glaring exception to that rule—when you create your own.
We've talked ad nauseum about why creating something in your voice, from your point of view is important for queer witches so I won't reiterate it here. I will say that all of the reasons you would write or draw as a spell likewise apply to your sigil creation. I will also say that a lot of times the reasons we're seeking magickal intervention in our lives as queer people is because there aren't ready made ones for a lot of our very real needs and goals. This is one of my favorite things about sigils. I don't need to find one that speaks to me, I just need to find pieces or ideas of how I want one to look that speak to me.
There are several ways to go about creating your own sigils. One common folkway of doing it is to write out a word or short phrase that sums up your goals. Then cross out the vowels. From there, play with combining the consonants into one symbol or letter until you're satisfied with what you're looking at. Remake that final one into the official sigil you're using, and incorporate it however you need to.
Another practice I really like is to find several different sigils that sort of hit on what I'm looking for and play with turning them into one until I'm satisfied with what I'm looking at. This can be done by laying them on top of each other in Adobe PhotoShop, and futzing with them until you're content. It can be done by drawing one then incorporating pieces of the others. It can be done by looking at several, praying or meditating on it, and allowing a totally new vision to come into your mind of what it should look like.
If you're feeling pretty good and pretty in touch with your intuition, you can also do a meditation meant to bring a specific sigil to the forefront of your mind that you can use as, or in, a spell. I actually struggle with this since I'm not a super visually oriented person, but I know of a lot of wildly successful witches who come up with their own sigils by praying or meditating on it until an image rises to the surface.
I cannot contain myself when I start talking about poppet magick. I just love poppets so much. Some of it is that I'm a Pisces with a Pisces moon, and as a people, we really love cute or pretty things. A lot of that excitement is because there's a misunderstanding of creating and using poppet magick where people think it's too deep and mystical to understand and yet it is absolutely one of the most accessible forms of magick that there is. You just need some stray fabric, cornhusks, or anything else fibrous that holds together and won't rot, and something to fill it with like cotton, dry rice, more fabric, cornhusks, or whatever is handy.
That accessibility alone is one of the reasons I think queer magicians should absolutely be making and using poppets. Poppets are a type of sympathetic magick, which basically just means that the doll represents you or whoever you're doing the spell on. Poppets are most common in hex spells, and that is how I came to them. Poppets are such a clear stand-in for another human being, that it makes sense to use this as your hexing default. This practice comes from HooDoo, VooDoo, and folk magick practices. Poppets allow you to tie the energy of a person or group of people you're hexing to the poppet by using some hair, a photo, or other similar implement of theirs. You simply stuff those items into the body of the poppet. But we'll get to that in a moment.
There is also so much beautiful sympathetic magick that can be done for ourselves (especially as queer people who need some extra boosts of empowerment), each other, and community with poppet work, too. I've done spells where I make a couple of poppets to represent my neighbors or my queer community members and enchant them with protection. On particularly arthritic days, I'll make a poppet that represents me and do a healing or an anti-pain spell on myself. If a close friend is struggling to keep their business afloat, I'll make them a poppet stuffed with cash that I've doused in prosperity oil. With any kind of sympathetic magick, you don't want to rule out that you might need to do a hex in protection of self, loved ones, or community. You also don't want to think of it only in these terms when it can be yet another type of really wonderful magick for empowerment, strength, and knocking out those goals.
To make a poppet, first clearly define what you want the poppet to be for. So far I've primarily discussed types of magick that can be used for general healing, prosperity, confidence, and so forth. Sympathetic magick is not that. You need a specific person with a specific goal in mind. Please note that for the rest of the steps in your poppet making adventure, you'll want to keep your energy and intentions right at the front of your mind and heart. You want that energy to be pouring off of you and into your poppet. Say the intentions out loud. Talk to the poppet as you make it. Tell them about all the great things you're going to do together.
You may want to draw out a pattern first. All you need to do is draw a rough image of approximately what you want your poppet to look like on a piece of paper, cut it out, lay your poppet material, on top of that, and cut accordingly. I do recommend making the poppet pattern bigger than you want the poppet to be, because if you're not experienced with sewing, you'll likely be tying off your poppet and that can create too small of a poppet and too tedious of a process if you don't. Even if you are good at sewing, remember that this is a process that includes stuffing, so the shape will be different than you anticipate.
From there, lay the poppet fabric down and put your filler in. I do recommend using filler that corresponds with your intention. If this is a poppet meant to make you rich, try symbols of wealth like uncooked corn (which represents a harvest) or shredded money. If it's a poppet that represents the ideal lover you are trying to bring to yourself, fill it with dried flower petals. This isn't wholly necessary, because this is an accessible process, but you can enchant even cotton or dried rice to the intention that you're looking for. Simply hold it in your hands, close your eyes, and think about intention. Picture a ball of energy moving past your skin and into the filler. Once you feel ready, put the filler in the poppet. I would also include with the filler any small things you want that represent the goal or energy you want the doll to be imbued with. An incantation or sigil written down on a small piece of paper and folded up, a coin, a trinket or charm, or a handful of herbs are a few examples that will do the trick.
There are a couple of different ways you can pull the poppet together into a poppet or doll instead of just random pieces of things. If you're skilled with sewing, you can obviously sew it all together in a way that makes sense for you. I usually grab smaller, thinner but long strips of the same material of the poppet and tie the poppet together. That means in my pattern portion, I don't cut the fabric into halves, I let it stay attached because then it's easier to tie together. I do one strip to create a head and neck division. I do one around the waist area. I usually also tie off shoulders, and arms and legs where the hands and feet would normally be. Poppets are not supposed to be pretty or cute (but I think they are!) so if yours bulge weird or don't look perfectly even at first, don't worry. It's still a poppet and it'll still work. You can also tie it off with twine, yarn, or chunky thread, especially if you're working with a less pliable material like cornhusks.
A couple of final touches you can add once you're all sewn up or tied together include: oils, sprays, or perfumes. Feel free to douse the poppet, especially a fabric poppet, so long as you can stand to be in the room with the strong smell. Obviously these should correlate to the poppet's overall purpose, too. You can also decorate the poppet. Use some thread or buttons to make eyes or a smile. Sew on patches or buttons wherever you want them to represent any final touches you want your spell to have.
Once your poppet is complete, hold it in your hands and do any last incantations or energy push. Place it wherever you'd like—your bed, your altar, a random bookcase, and go about your day. Every few days you should check in with the poppet, either chatting with it (I like to let mine know about the progress we're making towards the goals) or recharging it. Eventually you might feel like you don't need this poppet anymore. If it is a hex poppet, destroy it and throw it away. If it was a good-to-you poppet, you can unstitch it and use the pieces and ingredients for later spells, or just hang on to it. You can dispose of it if it feels respectful to do so, but I know a lot of witches get attached to theirs. I have a small box where I keep several former poppets, and I just try really hard not to outgrow that box. Eventually though, I do toss a few out. I made them so long ago that I no longer remember what their purpose was, or their goals were hit so long ago that it feels like I'm holding on to a former, and sometimes lesser, version of myself. Feel it out and trust your gut—just like in all things magickal.
A kitchen witch is someone who focuses their craft in their home, particularly where cooking, baking, and using nontraditional magickal tools is concerned. All that this path requires is a base knowledge of cooking, baking, and which herbs are used for what in magickal practice. (Actually, using Google Search in place of knowledge is pretty useful too, so don't get stressed or hung up on that piece.) An advanced kitchen witch might also grow their own herbs and flowers, or even have a full-fledged garden of edibles that they tend. I'm including kitchen witchery in this section because it is a deeply accessible and flexible form of magick, and one that I think takes on a whole new life of its own once we start queering it.
Kitchen witchery has been one of my favorite forms of magick to reclaim over the years. As an ardent queer feminist who grew up in an unstable home, I used to turn my back on anything that felt homemakery. When I started learning witchcraft I had no concept of hearth and home. I wasn't concerned with creating warm and safe spaces for others because I didn't have that for myself. As time passed and now that I'm well into my mid-thirties, I feel very differently. The shift into kitchen witchcraft came naturally. First I had to fall in love with having a stable home and partnership. Then I had to want to create that space for others. Then I had to fall in love with cooking. Then I had to find my way on this new branch of my path. As a bona fide queer, I never found kitchen witchery necessary for the reasons I described above. I have subverted homemaking and kitchen magick now; these can be a powerful way to remake what home and family is. Which is something I really needed to find.
In a nutshell, kitchen witches spend a lot of their time making food and drink that is infused with witchcraft and magick. They might take wheat as a symbol of harvest and bake bread that they've enchanted with a spell for ongoing harvest and abundance. They might make cookies with fresh flower petals loved by the fae baked into them in an attempt to woo the fae to their favor. They might make teas that are meant to help you with everything from menstrual cramps to sex magick and back again. They usually have an altar in the kitchen, though certainly that isn't a requirement.
We are living through a time where things like cooking, baking, and even keeping house are having a kitschy resurgence as hipster hobbies, and for that reason information about kitchen witchery abounds. To follow this path, it's easy enough to research online some simple starter recipes that are also spells, and some herb and ingredient correspondence lists. Any time you want to do something really tangible and creative with a spell, kitchen witchery is a beautiful place to start, especially if you really have no idea what your creative skills are. Kitchen witchery is also generally accessible. It's tempting once you're on this path to acquire all of the fanciest kitchen gadgets and highest quality herbs, but it's also completely unnecessary. Some salt thrown into your dish can help with protection magick. Some pasta sauce out of a jar can honor a god that is associated with nightshade plants. It doesn't have to be complicated. You can even just research “magical use of X” where X is a random ingredient you have to work with.
There is something truly invigorating about actually ingesting your magickal spell. You are putting something special and divine that you created with your own hands into your body. Even if you're not at a point where you're interested in reclaiming the idea of home, kitchen witchery can pay off big for you. It's incredibly rooted to the body, which is often the first thing I see queer clients needing to reclaim. When you ingest your own magick and let it run its course throughout your body, you are staking your claim to and owning your desires for your life.
Most queer people are concerned with helping the collective, and not just themselves. Kitchen witchery can allow you to take your few sparse ingredients and turn them into a magickal meal for your chosen family and loved ones. It helps you bring something inspiring or community building to the potluck beyond just food itself. If someone in my community is struggling with food insecurity, I'll likely make them some food and then enchant it with a spell to help them overcome this hurdle and enter a more prosperous time. If someone in my community is struggling with new physical pain, I'll try to pull together a tea known to help in their situation and further bewitch it to help them see new paths towards healing that pain. I think a lot of the reason kitchen witchery wasn't hip for a while was because on the surface it seems like it would be for traditional homes, individuals, or families only. Once we think about what our community actually needs though, it cracks this idea wide open. Queer communities love getting together to feed each other and share our hearts. There is no better magick to incorporate into this practice than kitchen magick.
Don't skip to the next section just because you don't fancy yourself a fashionista! I don't either! I have three different palates—mermaid, black and silver, and autumn—and they do not go together logically. I was thirty-one when I finally gave up on learning how to style my hair and just started dumping wild colors in it so no one would question it. I can't even wear heels because of rheumatoid arthritis, but I do wear a lot of orthopedic shoes at the tender old age of thirty-five. Trust me, I am not making anyone's list of style icons anytime soon.
The good news is that none of that matters for using clothes, makeup, hair, and beauty routines as a form of magick. It really, really doesn't. Fashion and style witchcraft are about coordinating your look, however lackadaisical that may be, with whatever your spiritual goals or magickal intentions for that time period are. The easiest way to do this is by pulling out your outfits in advance and using color correspondences. I usually wear silver on days I'm doing moon magick, since it coordinates with the Moon. Alternatively, I'll wear gold or bronze details on days I'm trying to connect with Sun energy. If I'm looking for love, I might wear a deep burgundy shirt to color-coordinate, but another way to use fashion magick is to pull whatever you think says love, money, or other intention out of your closet and wear that. So I might color coordinate with correspondences for love, but I also might pull out the outfit that I want an ideal partner to fall in love with me in, instead. If I want to get a lot of writing done, I might pull out a purple outfit for creativity. I also might pull out a long pencil skirt and a button-down to give myself that “professional writer” feeling.
I listed some pretty femme examples up there, and it bears mentioning that I'm genderfluid but tend to present femme publicly. Anyone can use this style of magick though. A cis gay man can rock a pink shirt with yellow details to work on making friends in the queer community, for example. In fact, one thing I've really been playing a lot with with fashion magick is the idea of gender magick. I'm loosely defining gender magick as magick that either reinforces how I want people to see my gender or intentionally shakes up societal views of gender. If I want people to see me as more masculine, I might put on a muscle tank top (one of my favorite kinds of shirts). If I want to mix up people's perceptions of gender as a construct though, I might pick a pink or purple one. I might put on a suit that accentuates my curves or a dress with a binder under it. Just like there's no one way to be whatever gender you are, there's no one way to do gender magick.
Queer aesthetic is obviously a big thing, and that includes a lot of gender fuckery. Infusing that with magick gives you even more entitlement over your own image. I think fashion and style (like songs, poems, and bread) are magick innately. We usually dress with intention and accessorize to boot. We want people to think we're tough so we throw on a vest or combat boots. We want people to think we're soft so we wear fuzzy sweaters. Or we want people to not know what to think so we wear both. This is already a form of magick. Adding a specific protection intention to your combat boots is only going to help you on your path as a witch and your path back to yourself.
I've mostly talked about clothes here because everyone wears clothes. Underwear, accessories, makeup, face washes, and the like can all be used in this type of magick, too. Just pick out some beauty, style, and fashion pieces that scream your current intentions, and rock them. You'll probably even notice over time that doing this boosts your confidence even if you never specifically cast a spell with your eyeshadow for confidence. That's because you're walking around all day in something that aligns you to your deeper needs and higher callings. Staying connected to those things is bound to boost your self-image, especially for those of us whose queerness meant we were consistently put down for our style and presentation for much of our lives.
Finally, there are other things you can add to your fashion magick! You can lay your clothes out overnight and charge them with crystals that correspond. You can light incense or candles for your spellwork, and (carefully) wave your pieces over that smoke. You can dab them with oils, douse them in perfumes (so long as you're not going somewhere scent-free that day), or do any number of things to further enchant them. I usually incorporate mantras or incantations as I get dressed, saying something as simple as “May this necklace help me fill my pockets today” for prosperity or “May this vest keep me safe from catcallers on this bus ride.”
Obviously anyone can do this kind of magick and it takes almost nothing but the clothes already in your closet. Even if you don't think any of your clothes or beauty products quite fit your current intentions, you can use the stones, incense, oils, mantras, and so forth described above to get your intended result. Style and presentation are a huge cornerstone of not all, but a lot, of queer culture. Amplifying something you're already doing with spells is the easiest transition into a magickal lifestyle. The reason style and presentation are so important to queer people, though, is specifically because our voices and forms of expression have already been stifled for so long. One of the first things we figure out on our own is how we want this out-and-proud version of ourselves to look to the rest of the world. Witchcraft is also about reclaiming your body and space in this world. This means fashion plus magick is a ready-made pair up, eager for you to jump in and start using it.
We go into sex magick multiple times in this book, especially as we edge ever closer to the grimoire at the end. Sex magick has a couple of different facets, but one very important thing to know is that this is not just about attracting sex into your life. Sex magick is a catchall term for any spell that incorporates sex or masturbation (especially that is meant to bring you to orgasm) into your spellcraft. This is a great form of spellcraft because it's free, it's pleasurable, and if you're queer, then boom! It's automatically queer. No further thinking or nuance needed.
Sex magick is also wildly powerful. The general theory behind it is that we are at our most vulnerable and most receptive post-orgasm. As the aftershocks pulsate through us, we are able to use visualization or other free magickal tools to begin manifesting specific desires. Any intention you have, sex magick can help with. I know some people may not be ready for it because of sexual trauma, but I still encourage you to explore your body as a form of healing. Learn what makes you feel good, remind yourself that as a human capable of that pleasure you deserve that pleasure, and know that there is healing in that. It just takes time.
The easiest way to learn the art of sex magick is, I think, via masturbation. Involving other people is beautiful and boosts our magick, but it can also complicate things for us, stress us out, cause us to perform instead of enjoy, or mix with energies that may not boost us magickally. To start then, we do need to break down our relationship to masturbation and our own bodies. I know a lot of people who are otherwise sexually empowered still feel certain ways about masturbation. I would practice masturbating a few times with no magickal intention. Use toys if you have access to them, and don't use toys. Use your hand, use pillows, use whatever you want. Try porn, erotica, and your own imagination. You don't know what gets you off in this way until you know. Take the time to explore your body. I'm sure you won't be surprised to hear me say that regardless of your intentions for actual sex magick, learning your body and how to make it come is a form of magick that roots you in your body and allows you to fall into pleasure, thus making you more open and receptive to pleasure in the first place.
Once you have a handle on your body and what gets it off, pick a night when you feel really sexy and go to town in the way you get off most often. Before you jump in, spend some time thinking about your intentions for the sex spell. Often I tell myself to picture a very wealthy bank statement as I come as a form of money magick. If I'm seeking a sexual partner, I'll set the intention to visualize other hands (or other body parts entirely) getting me off as I come.
If you have a sexual partner or potential sexual partner that you feel spiritually drawn to, sex with that person can also be a spiritual act. Instead of masturbating, have sex with them and use the same visualization techniques above. If you fully trust this sexual partner, then have them visualize the same thing or a complementing vision with you. Hold each other afterwards if you're both comfortable with that, and congratulate each other on a magickal job well done as your bodies cool down. If you love threesomes or group sex, and if you have other witches that you sleep with, these are tactics that can be used in those group scenarios, too. Trust each other and trust yourselves—but know that team visualization, especially during and post-orgasm, can take your magick to totally new heights.
Journal Exercise
New and seasoned witches, it's time to check in with which of the above methods resonate with you and which don't. Using a journal or some paper, take some notes on anything that struck a positive or negative chord with you. Which magicks do you currently practice? How is that going? What do you want to try next? Is there anything that you feel called to do but are afraid of right now? Journal about all of this, and then leave it be for a few days as you rest your psychic self.
One of the questions I get asked most often by new witches is whether I'm in a coven or not. Full disclosure: I'm not, and while I used to really rail against anything that felt organized or hierarchical, I am currently open to the right coven under the right circumstances. It just hasn't happened yet. A coven is a group of witches, usually formalized, who practice magick together. That's it! Some denominations of witchcraft will tell you that it should be three, or four, or thirteen, or some other arbitrary number but at the end of the day if you're a formal group with similar goals who practice working toward those goals together magickally and you call yourself a coven, you're a coven.
For the record, there are incredibly formalized, hierarchical covens. Some of them I've practiced with during public ritual, a time when those covens may design a ritual and then open it up to the public. Some of these formal covens I've studied with and under and ultimately decided not to join for one reason or another. Most covens tend to be very rooted in a specific path such as Wiccan, Thelemic, Satanic, or the like, and I honestly take from all of those paths, many other paths, and create my own way a lot of the time. That eclectic method is becoming more and more common, and that means that not as many people are joining the super formalized covens. Those covens are shrinking, and smaller ones are disappearing altogether. They do serve an important purpose though, namely they make witchcraft and Paganism look like a viable religion in a society that normally thinks we're absurd, goth teenagers who saw The Craft a few too many times. Covens are an important part of a lot of my favorite witches' practice and some of the public rituals I've attended have changed my life even if I decided that ultimately those covens were not for me, so I'm not here to put them down. They aren't as visible or prevalent as they once were though, and even when they are, they're not for everyone. There's nothing wrong with not joining a coven, but I do want to explore our options a little bit further.
If you're someone who is on a specific path or is willing to work within a specific path while you're otherwise learning the ropes, covens are a good place to learn, network, and grow as a witch. If you do better in a group setting than not and are more of a follower than a leader, then covens are likely a good fit, too. Another reason a coven may work well for you is because a lot of spells, specifically those aimed at changing culture and public policy, are more powerful when you get more voices behind them. Personal spellwork works just fine on your own, but the power of having multiple people helping you heal and grow cannot be overstated. If you feel like your spellwork would benefit from organized coven work, then doing research in the area you live is your best bet. Attend some meetups for witches or metaphysical/New Age types and see if you connect with anyone there. If there aren't formal covens in your area, you might meet some people who are interested in starting one with you.
There are downsides to formal coven work, especially for queer people. I grew up in the Bible Belt in a church with a clear hierarchy that was both formal (imbedded into the laws of the church) and informal (rooted in class or things like who had the most time to volunteer) and those at the top of those hierarchies set the tone and rules for everyone else. This was stifling as someone who was assigned female at birth and hurtful as someone who was in the closet. I am not the only person with this reaction to church, and an incredibly disproportionate number of queer people suffer from the newly named and relatively newly understood, Religious Trauma Syndrome (RTS). That means a lot of people in our community have an aversion to having one person in charge or even a group of people in charge. To make a coven work effectively, that's often the breakdown that's needed, which does mean that being a part of a coven is not right for those who struggle with those facets of formalized group worship.
Additionally, covens often cost money and time that are too scarce in queer community. It's hard to rally your energy for a coven event when you have work during the day, a show you're in at night, and community members crashing with you until they get on their feet. It's hard to justify the budget line expense for coven fees (which are totally fair because witches should be paid, especially those organizing big things for everyone else) when you're asking your friends to send you money on Venmo so you can eat until your next paycheck. This might sound dramatic, but that is the reality many, many queer community members face. Additionally, covens are traditionally very white and the queer community would be nothing without the Queer and Trans Black and Indigenous People of Color (QTBIPOC) who have paved the way for us. Covens are also often very straight or emphasize all male or all female breakdowns that are traumatic and isolating for trans and non-binary people.
As I mentioned earlier, covens are also disappearing, which means that even if you think you want to join one, you may not be able to find one, depending on where you live and how many spots the covens around you have open throughout the year—if there even are covens around you! Throughout witch history there have been solutions to the social problems I listed above, but as Black and Indigenous, People of Color (BIPOC)-run organizations and queer-run organizations are disturbingly underfunded, they're often the first to fold when something, like coven work starts going out of vogue, meaning the odds of finding a queer friendly and racially inclusive coven are almost nil right now.
While I do think working as a solitary witch is the right path for me and so many others, I also know firsthand the unique gifts and power that group spellwork can give us. There are a couple of other options that modern queer witches are turning to instead. The most obvious and common of those is informal covens. This is, essentially, witches who know and trust each other turning to each other frequently for spiritual backup and group spellwork. There's usually no hierarchy, though often if one witch is more advanced they might take the lead without thinking about it. If someone in the group doesn't like that, it's an easy discussion to have so everybody gets time as a spiritual leader and to just take part in the spell. Unofficial covens often happen if a group of friends or chosen family all happen to be struggling in the same way at the same time, such as financially or in dealing with societally imposed trauma. I do think it's important to work together when you're not in crisis, too. It's in those times when things are fine that your strongest relationships with magickal entities and each other grow the most. Not having an immediate problem to solve means the spell serves to pull you closer and allows you to explore your spiritualities separately and together. This is foundational work that will serve your craft for years to come, and foundations can only benefit from the love and support of other witches.
Many witches turn to the Internet now to find community and tips, which is another reason covens have become arguably less necessary. It used to be that there were a limited number of ways to find out how to do magick and you almost needed a coven in your area to figure it out. Things in general aren't so regionalized now, and most of us have the entire Web at our fingertips. Some of my best witch friends are people I met online. Some of those friendships have stayed online, and we have coordinated spellwork and done spells for each other. Some of them have become strong, potent IRL (In Real Life) relationships that I would be totally lost without. None of that even touches on the scores of resources, spells, and information out there. Facebook groups, shared Pinterest boards, and community websites abound and it's a wonderful way to meet people and learn the craft, especially if you're explicitly looking for queer community.
Of course, it's easy to get lost online. Someone close to me is trying to slowly learn witchcraft as we speak and has panicked over inflammatory and false articles like “Are you a natural born witch?” That's why finding witches you connect with online should be a first step, not a secondary one, and using social media platforms to find unofficial covens should be a priority. There are usually people more experienced than you willing to guide your hand, many with your same identities. Those people can point you in the direction of useful resources and help you build your magickal skillset.
There are, of course, pitfalls to working with groups for magick. It can seem clamorous to bring in a Heathen, a Druid, and an eclectic witch all into one circle. It'll take time to learn how to work together. That time is completely worth it, and those differences can make powerful shifts as multiple gods from multiple covens join in to work together. There can also be squabbles, differences in culture, and differences in core values and beliefs that can make working together seem insurmountably difficult, and you should consider how you and the people you're considering working with handle conflict and differences before jumping into spiritual work with them. If everyone is open to new ideas and communicative, proceed. If not, take a few steps back and figure out if there's a common ground to be had or not. If not, that's okay. You'll find your witches. This just ain't them.
Whether you want to make witch friends or join a formalized coven, whether you want to use the Internet or not, witchcraft itself is growing even as covens shrink and disappear. Do research into your area and look for classes, meetups, or even just spaces where the witchy types hang out, and be friendly. Witchcraft is also really, really common among queer people, and even if no one you know practices witchcraft per se, there are likely people interested in New Age, occult, or metaphysical things, which can be a first step towards practicing craft. Don't roll your eyes at your queer friends who are going on and on about astrology, manifesting, or ghosts. Engage them, and allow both of your senses of spirituality to deepen from those conversations.
Magick isn't always formalized. There's wishing magick, which is exactly what it sounds like. There's prayer. There's the magick of living your life in the way that suits you best that can open the floodgates to dream opportunities and paths for you. When we think about group witchcraft, it doesn't have to be about covens and meetups. Surrounding yourself with people that affirm your identity and support your dreams is a type of magick, too. Queer community calls such people chosen family. RuPaul famously comforts queens with unsupportive families on RuPaul's Drag Race by reminding them that as LGBTQQIA2SP+ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, Questioning, Intersex, Asexual, Two-Spirit, Plus) people, we get to choose our own families. This is an honor and a gift. Yes, it is often absolutely steeped in the tragedy and pain of being forced out of your given family. No one can override that pain. You need time and distance to heal from that. You can surround yourself with people who will support this process, though. That's chosen family, and honoring this group of people as family, loving them as family, trusting them as family is its own form of magick.
That's not to say that chosen family always gets it right. Humans are imperfect and they will hurt you. You will have to forgive each other a thousand times over, but as long as they're working on themselves and you're working on yourselves and you're both working on the friendship together, it can and will be salvaged every time. So love the people who love you and have shown you acceptance. Honor chosen family and let them into your heart. Support others the way they've supported you. If magick is often about living our lives as we want to live them, and it is, then creating a team of strong, generous, loving people around you is the strongest kind of magick there is. No coven needed, just open hearts.
Throughout this book so far, I have alluded to and talked about shadow work, which is a very specific type of spiritual work where we face and come to terms with our shadow selves. The shadow self is that side of you where all your fears and anxieties are kept. It's the side that you often don't like. It's the part of you that doesn't want to heal and move forward because it's still feeling the pain of everything so deeply. Our shadow self doesn't always look like you'd expect, given how I just described it. You'd think mine would be a sniveling, insecure child but instead my shadow self comes out and makes me mean and gossipy sometimes. It makes me overreach so that when I'm let down it reinforces my low self-esteem. It's rooted in that same fear and insecurity, but how it manifests is personal and different for everyone, because of the hows and whys of your shadow self. Why is it there? Who lied to you by diminishing your worth? What traumatized you? How did that play into building the shadow self that you're still dealing with?
Shadow work is about healing, but just like our shadow selves, that doesn't always look like we expect it to. If your shadow self can be manipulative or have a lot of badly aspected trickster energy, your healing is often coming to peace with this side of yourself by learning to find healthier ways to work with it. If you get jealous and anxious easily, healing might be learning to look for the root of why and bringing new goals to the forefront. Sometimes it does just look like plan old healing where you don't see your shadow self as often, or you'll heal the first layer and realize there's more.
I don't want to set up that expectation though, and in some cases, for queer people, the idea of squashing our shadow self is a bad idea. Your bossiness could be dominance, but because you were shamed for it your whole life, you banished it to the shadow when you could've really come into yourself sexually. For some of us, promiscuity is listed as a shadow self quality but I would argue that it's not, as long as we're not doing it to hurt ourselves or someone else. It's a lot to untangle though, and I don't want people who have been shamed or abused for their gender and sexuality to come into this section hoping to cure things that were never wrong with them in the first place. In the tarot, the Devil often represents the shadow self. This card shows up dripping with sexual energy and an indulgent attitude. Tarot lore says that's bad, but a good reader will probe you to go deeper and figure out where you've been restricting and why. A good shadow work teacher will do the same thing.
In making peace with our shadow selves we say that there is no part of us that is bad. There are parts of us that we hide. There are parts that can be harmful if we don't learn how to dance with them. There are parts that we have been told are bad that we can reclaim now. There are parts that are hurting, parts that just need attention, parts that need to play. There are not parts of you that are wrong. Queer people face backlash about how we are always wrong no matter what we are doing. Over a lifetime we internalize that and we believe it, but it isn't true.
Now that all of that is settled, let's look at some practical ways to work through some shadow work. Start by sitting in a safe, comfortable space and clearing your head. Set the intention “I want to see my shadow self” first, if you're brand new to witchcraft. Meditate on that idea and sit for several minutes. Pay attention to your breathing. It will get uncomfortable. It is supposed to get uncomfortable. I cried for a nice, long time the first time I sat and really looked at the ways I'd hurt other people and the ways I'd hurt myself. You don't know what you're working with until you really sit with it, though.
After that, do some self-care. Journal about the experience, or talk to a metaphysically inclined friend. Think it over from an emotionally safer space for a couple of days. From there you can develop a plan to learn to make peace with those energies and pains, and what using that side of yourself in a healthy way looks like. Write that plan down—sometimes our shadow self needs reminders, and we don't want to let this important work get away from us.
As you're reading this book and researching witchcraft, you'll frequently come across the phrase, “and it harm none.” It's how we're supposed to conclude our spells and rituals, and it's the basic tenet that a lot of witchcraft is built around. The idea is a good one, in theory. It is supposed to be our reminder that, while we can be selfish, we shouldn't actively work to hurt others. It's a reminder to keep our magick light and airy and not dig into the nitty gritty, because that's painful.
I do not subscribe to this. For starters, this phrase doesn't make logical sense in our society. If you do a love spell to meet the right monogamous person, there are exes and people who have crushes on both of you that are going to be hurt. You will never have no baggage or spark the interest of others who have no baggage. Saying “and it harm none,” means you honestly may never meet that person. Love also hurts. When my anxiety is working overtime or I am doubled over in Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) pain, those who love me feel emotional pain, too. This is technically doing harm and setting your spells to not cause any harm also blocks out a lot of really beautiful things in life, like love itself.
Another example of how “and it harm none” doesn't work is if you're doing a money spell. Sorry not sorry, but capitalism, and therefore money, is inherently harmful. We need it! It's a necessary evil, but people did get hurt for that dollar to hit your hand. I know these are bold statements and I might make a lot of witches wildly unhappy with this statement, but for most of our goals and intentions to be met, that means someone else's won't be. We can't say “and it harm none” and have our spells work. If they do work, we're kidding ourselves to think that no one got hurt somewhere along the way.
Furthermore as marginalized people, in order to have anything worth having, we have to unpack a lot of deep, heavy stuff. It isn't all fun. If “and it harm none” is meant to include ourselves, and why wouldn't it, we'll never get anywhere. We have to hurt to heal. We are literally uncovering wounds so they can feel the air and get better. It is an innately painful process. When we love, it hurts—even if everything in the relationship is healthy. My queerplatonic partner struggles with severe depression and my heart breaks a thousand times a year wanting to help and knowing I can't. Our love hurts and I wouldn't change it for all the “and it harm none” in the world.
If we're looking at collective movements, we cannot afford to tack “and it harm none” on to our spellwork. What do we think is going to happen if we overhaul the government? What do we think is going to happen if we decriminalize nonviolent behavior? The state will suffer. People with jobs at the state will suffer. Children of people with jobs at the state will suffer. I don't take this lightly, but we have to work towards creating a more fair and equitable society if we're going to call ourselves witches, but there will be people who suffer in the transition. That's just how it is. Furthermore, marginalized people, especially women of color, are constantly being told not to even speak up or make waves for the sake of being “nice” and not offending anyone. This is not actually coming from fear of people being hurt. It's coming from people who think marginalized people should know their place and not strive for a better society. If we're going to do activism, we will have to challenge the status quo and make a whole lot of well-meaning people uncomfortable. We can't afford “and it harm none.” The stakes are too high.
That said, I do think we should wield our spiritual gifts responsibly. We shouldn't hex people for the hell of it or because we're jealous of them. We should aim to do as little harm as possible. We should act out of love of community and a better world and not out of fear or hate. Yet as queer witches we have a responsibility to make waves and make change, and I don't think we can do that without hurting people. I think we deserve money, love, and all of the joy that this world has to offer, but we have to be realistic about it or our spellwork and our spiritual growth will be stunted. It makes you a better, more aware person to know that sometimes, through no fault of yours, people get hurt. You are not responsible for that as long as you're behaving responsibly.
So forget what you read about “and it harm none” and just try not be a jerk, okay? Oh, and recycle. Please. The planet needs you, too.