Hatred Is Real, but We Persevere

I have always known I was a nature child, and truthfully I knew I was a witch. My mother considers herself a Christian, because she was raised that way, but she always knew I didn't fit into that religious category. I was always open about my beliefs, and about any opinion really. I've had people try to convince me to "change my ways". I just asked them "You don't really think I'm going to convert to YOUR way, just because you think I should, do you?" I've had people call me evil, and try to convince me that I was going to burn in Hell, but again...they can't convince me to believe in their "Hell". So I was always very strong-headed, and sometimes misunderstood. I was also looked up to by some friends and family members, so it hasn't all been negative attention. I have always wished to have more friends that are pagan, or to find a coven, or just have a group of people to celebrate with, but mostly I have been solitary with scattered pagan friends.

So pretty much I have been open, but then I went trough some major life changes, and I went through a really abusive relationship. I lost everything in my life, and moved into a women's shelter. The women found out I was pagan and treated me really badly. I had to build myself back up after all of that. Also, about five years ago I was gathering herbs on a back road. My father was with me. He took me for a drive in the countryside to just get some relaxation. We had been there dozens of times throughout the years. I was walking through a pasture, and a bunch of guys about my age were hanging out. They had turned it into a hillbilly shooting range. (no offense to hillbillies...country boys sure can be adorable) I walked past them and smiled, I was wearing my silver pentacle, and a couple of them said hello, but some of them just stood there. I carried on and finished gathering my herbs and natural treasures. When I walked back through they had a stuffed witch on the target (where the hell did they even find that thing in 20 minutes time?) and some of them were staring at me, some of them (the friendly ones) were gone, and the others were taking turns shooting the witch on the target.

Religious hate is still very real.

I have since then lost the pentacle that I used to have, but that's ok because it was just a material possession. I have a pentacle that was given to me a couple years, quite randomly actually. I was at our local farmer's market, and I was visiting the stand of a local silversmith. I have always been interested in being a silversmith, so I was gabbing with the man. He had a lot of Native American stuff, but I happened to glance down and saw a big silver pentacle. I commented on it, and he asked me if  wanted to see it. I mentioned I didn't have the money to spend on jewelry right now, but I thought it was very pretty. I continued to talk with him, and he reached for the pentacle and handed it to me. I almost cried, and my face turned bright red.

He gave me that beautiful pentacle.

I walked away from that encounter recharged and beaming.

I have to admit that I have only worn it outside of the house a couple times. I'm home most of the time, but I do go out sometimes. I actually put it in a little box and lost it for about a year, but I found it a little while ago. I would like to wear it out more often, and I'm trying to build myself up for that, but the last time I wore it out I noticed so many people looking at it instead of my face. It was like I had an HUGE boob job or something. Even people I talked to all the time were busy staring at it.

After saying all of this, I don't want to be afraid, and I am openly pagan and posting about it all the time for my 600+ friends, family members, and game friends on facebook. I want to wear my pentacle outside of the house more often and just hold my head high and beam with energy more starting this spring.

I have to thank the writer of Musings of a Magical Mom for giving me the little extra push to write about this. It's something that has been swimming around in my head since it happened (the incident with the cruel hillbilly boys), and I had been thinking about writing an entry about it, but now I have. I'm glad I did.