How Magic Helped Me Embrace My Queerness
Olena Ruban
In this op-ed, astrologer Lisa Stardust explores how the magical and occult world helped them understand their queer identity.
I grew up witchy. My grandmother was a Walter Mercado fan and we’d dress up as him while listening to his radio show. We’d wear similar capes and put glitter on our eyelids in preparation for his tarot pulls. To me, he was an icon and I felt glamorous in the company of his voice. Since my grandmother and her friends adored Mercado, it made me want to be part of the metaphysical world; it seemed mesmerizing and astonishing, and it spoke to me.
My father bought me my first astrology reading in elementary school. I remember hearing words like “aura,” “destiny,” and “moon sign.” This allowed me to feel energetically powerful in many ways, even though it did make me feel as though I was a little out of touch with my crew of friends who preferred to swoon over Leonardo DiCaprio and Prince William. I was more into gazing at the stars and reading about sapphic mythology. Many of my friends were heteronormative (thought I didn't quite have the language to say that then), and I felt like an outsider because I didn't want to wear pink ballet flats and talk about boys — even though I was faking it when I partook in those conversations.
When I attended a new high school in New York City and met people who shared the same interests as me, my group of friends was composed of outsiders. One was a violinist, the other a Wiccan, the other a drama enthusiast, and a transfer student from another country. We all bonded over the metaphysical and our love of anything that was outside of the norm. Besides watching The Craft and Practical Magic, we walked the walk by having seances in Central Park instead of running around the reservoir for gym class.
These friendships were eye-opening. Not only did they show me that I didn't need to conform to a norm that felt wrong for me, one of my besties was queer and unapologetic about it. No one else in high school was out, and I felt proud to have her as my friend. She encouraged me to be authentic by taking me to all the occult shops like Enchantments and for coffee at Witches Brew. We went to moon circles where I met people our same age, who were also into astrology and magic. I thought it was so fantastic everyone in the community was just themselves. No one bothered to put on a façade about their sexuality or gender. I knew I fit into that scene because I felt I was seen for the first time.
I was really coming into my own, but then came college. In this new environment, I felt I had to pretend to be someone I wasn’t, which made me miserable. I took on the persona of a “party girl” to mask the fact that I was struggling with my identity. It was easier to be this caricature version of myself than the “real” me — that is, until I met a college professor who was queer and got me to speak up. They encouraged me to apply mythology, witchcraft, and astrology to my Victorian essays. My thesis was on sexuality in the spiritualist era. I found my voice and power.
The hardest part for me was understanding my gender identity. As an air sign, I wanted to fit in so badly with the social scene and my peers, but most of the time I just felt like an alien and an imposter. One day, I came to understand that as a Gemini, I am someone who doesn’t conform to being binary and is fluid in who I date. Yes, I am a proud witchy Gemini who is fluid and non-binary. I love who I love and crush on who I connect with. Now, I am unapologetic about it.
My local astrological community gave me a place to discuss my issues and get objective feedback. Everyone is different, no matter what sign you are. Knowing that we are all unique helped me to understand that no one adheres to any societal norm. There is none. The people I met in my classes, groups, and meetups accepted me for who I am. As I delved deeper into my occult studies, I met so many people who were accepting of themselves. For me, the first part was coming out of the broom closet and telling everyone I knew that I am an astrologer. No one judged me. That gave me the motivation to come out and let everyone know who I am — a queer witch. Even though I wear black 24/7, I still flaunt my Walter Mercado cape and honor his legacy. He offered my the first inkling that I can be whoever I want. It’s my life. In the years I struggled to find myself, I now know I've been the same person I was since I was a child. I accept and love myself for who I am. And that's all that matters. My peers aided me in my journey to my true self.
Historically, witches have fought for the religiously oppressed and queer community. Knowing that I have an army of supporters standing behind me gave me the courage to be the “real” me.
Originally Appeared on Teen Vogue
