Tarot Readings

I’ve always known how to read tarot — I just didn’t remember that I knew. It was carved into my soul long before this lifetime.

It called to me for years but the idea of sitting down and memorising seventy-eight cards? Yeah… that freaked me the fck out. And that fear felt familiar. Too familiar. It dragged me straight back into old wounds. The kind of trauma that sits heavy and stale in your gut, waiting to be cleared… again.

It transported me back to the classroom. Back to that little kid who didn’t understand a thing the teacher said. Back to staring out the window, lost in imagination, drifting in other realms because this one was too small. And instead of seeing the magic in that, they called me dumb.

Cute, right?
Trying to label a witch because they couldn’t understand her? Because that world made sense and this one didn’t.

But here’s the truth:
DUMB, I AM NOT.

Limiting belief cleared. Next!

Since awakening. Since remembering who I really am, I’ve learned something powerful:
I don’t learn like others.
I’m not meant to.
I don’t want to.

I don’t memorise.
I channel.

My intuition is my language.
My psychic gifts are my teachers.
The universe is my classroom now.

So when I read tarot?
I’m not reciting meanings.
I’m dipping into the metaphysical, pulling truth straight from the shadows,
uncensored, unfiltered and unapologetically witchy.

Spirit speaks.
I listen.
And you get the message. It’s raw, real and with zero fcks given.

If you want pretty, polished and polite?
I’m not your witch.

If you want truth, power, rebellion and magick that actually moves sh*t?
Sit down. Open up.
Let’s begin…