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Witness the Awakening of the Witches

Breathe in the enchantment that unfolded this extraordinary weekend. It all began with a glorious sunrise, when I awoke to discover a miraculous truth—a truth that would send shivers down my spine and ignite a fire within my soul.

Our sacred masterpiece, 'Love Thy Body, Sex, Love & Relationship,' ascended to the pinnacle of Amazon, crowned as the unmatched #1 BESTSELLER in an instant!

With an overwhelming surge of joy and profound gratitude coursing through my veins, I embarked on a journey with the biggest smile on my face and gratitude in my heart towards the mystical realm of the WILD WOMAN FEST —a powerful sisterhood gathering curated by the magnificent Margo Awanata , Lucia Elämää , and Alette Wttewaall .


Within the heart of this powerful gathering , we dove headfirst into the depths of our being, peeling away layers upon layers until we reached the very essence of our wild womanhood. Here, we encountered a fusion of sensitivity, untamed power, unadulterated authenticity, and a profound connection to our inner selves, the earth beneath our feet, and the divine surrounding us.


From this deep connection with earth and the divine we held space for a magnificent unfolding here in the Netherlands. The National Witch Memorial.

Across twenty locations in the Netherlands, women joined, their intentions aligned with awareness and the thoughtful remembrance of the victems of the large-scale witch burnings and killings, which mostly affected women.


We came together, we stood together, we felt together, we cried together, we held sacred space together


While we witnessed two women in the middle of our sacred circle embodying holding space for the witch archetype… until they stripped themselves of their clothes and stood bare, naked, fully in their vulnerability before us…


They walked around passing each one of us, offering us a basket filled with names of the murdered women… We read the names, we whispered the names of those whose lives were cruelly snuffed out.

In the middle a basket with white flowers, resembling purity, innocence, and the female aspect within all of us.


But this was no ordinary Wild Woman Fest, this was a deep embodied remembrance—a homage to the victims of a tragic era, where the echoes of witch burnings reverberated through time.


This weekend, we not only set aside the space to honor those lost souls, predominantly women, who endured the horrors of the European witch hunts from 1450 to 1750. But we all deeply felt it…. and returned to our deepest core... where our own inner power has been patiently waiting for us.


As we stood there… as we formed a reverent circle, embraced by the majesty of ancient trees. Within this sacred sphere, one hundred women stood united in circle, within this circle an inner circle of women clad in flowing white gowns, their hands gracefully pounding upon drums in a rhythmic cadence. Their faces bore a blend of serenity and solemnity, their tears cascading like raindrops upon the instruments they held...


The very same instruments that echoed the anguish and suffering of our fallen sisters—women whose blood stained the earth, spilled from wounds inflicted by unimaginable torture...


As we stood there we deeply felt it…





Why...?

Why...?

Why...?


Why were they condemned to flames? Why were they condemned to drown? Why were they buried alive? Why were they condemned to be stoned? Why were they condemned to hang?


Why...?


Because they dared to be different. Because they defied the suffocating standards imposed by society. Because they embodied wisdom that threatened the narrow-minded. Because they embraced their sensual nature with unapologetic fervor. Because they celebrated their sexuality, unconstrained by societal chains. Because they possessed the healing touch, capable of mending broken souls. Because they communed with the mystical world of herbs and potions. Because their appearance deviated from the norm, a flaw or birthmark marking them as targets.

Because they were powerful, fearless warriors of truth, fearlessly pursuing their passions.


These were wise women. These were healers. These were free women. These were single mothers. These were courtesans. These were women who chose a different path, unburdened by the expectations of motherhood. These were priestesses.


They refused to conform to the church's dictums...

They were betrayed by their neighbors, traded like pawns in a wicked game.

They were betrayed by their own families, who surrendered them to their gruesome fate.

They were betrayed by both women and men, pointing accusatory fingers and sealing their destinies.


In that sacred circle, we remembered the pain, the terror, and the unfathomable fear that consumed these women condemned as witches. We acknowledged their presence, their spirits interwoven with ours. And in that moment, we granted them and ourselves forgiveness.


As we stood united, we became the daughters of the witches they could not burn—and the ones who perished in the flames.


We are here.

We are unyielding.

We are the carriers of ancient power.

We embody wisdom that transcends time.

We are the healers, mending hearts and souls.

We are the free spirits, dancing under the moonlight.

We are the resilient single mothers, raising our children with fierce love.

We are the courtesans, embracing pleasure without shame.

We are the women who chose a different path, reclaiming our autonomy.

We are the priestesses, conduits of divine energy.

We are the witches.

We emerge from the depths, unstoppable and undeterred.


No force can suppress us.

No darkness can extinguish our light.

Together, we raise our voices, releasing a collective roar that echoes across the cosmos.


Feel the tremors of liberation coursing through your veins.

Open your hearts and witness the resurgence of the witch within.

Embrace your power.

Illuminate the world with your inner flame.


We, the witches, have returned.


And there is no force in existence that can impede our boundless potential.

Watch us as we forge a path paved with magic, love, and unapologetic authenticity.


Prepare to be spellbound.

For the witches have awakened.

And our reign has just begun.




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