To all of you:
To those who have been reading for years and those who have just joined the party – thank you. It is the simple fact of your being there – reading, feeling, engaging – that gives this space purpose and meaning. It is you that gives LRT it’s very reason for being.
To everyone who has ever responded to a newsletter, who has reached out across the void and touched me with words of encouragement or whimsy or sadness or something else – thank you. I read every one. I am grateful for every one.
To everyone who has ever left a comment – those that filled me with joy and those that were harder to take – thank you. Creating this space in community, in conversation, is what made it all worthwhile. I have learned so much from you, and other readers have too.
To those who believed in my approach and signed up for my courses – you enabled me first to get a new computer and go on a ta-road trip across the US, and then to start paying writers to join me on the blog. Thank you. Your money is the real tangible necessary stuff that actually made this blog possible.
To every writer who has shared here, my gratitude is immense. You have made this space rich and powerful and important with your words, your vulnerability, your ideas, your willingness to open up and share. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
And to my customers – all of you who buy your tarot decks from the Little Red Tarot Shop. Thank you. My goodness. I had no idea when I started this that I might someday make my living this way. If I hadn’t, I would have been forced to quit long ago, but your support gives me a livelihood, enabling me to show up and put the time in. Even a blog like this one can’t live on love and words alone – but with money to pay bills and put food on the table, I have been nourished and supported to show up and work here, every day.
It is an ending, but it is not really goodbye.
It’s not the end. It’s just one part of the conversation growing quieter, allowing space for what’s next to come in, to rise up.
When I started this site, #witchyqueers was not a thing. (I mean, were hashtags even a thing then?) I saw no bold, collective blogs linking spirituality with social justice, no podcasts where intersectional spirituality was a starting point for all kinds of amazing and progressive conversations. I wasn’t aware of another queer tarot reader, never mind the rest of it.
But in seven lightening-fast years – for that is how fast the internet moves, it seems – the witchyqueer online community has become A Thing, with a life of its own, an aesthetic, a language, a shared understanding of tools and magic and energy and oppression and empowerment and self-care and more. (Check out this list, for starters!)
I’m honoured and excited that Little Red Tarot has been a part of this culture.
And I’m excited to continue the conversation in other spaces, hosted by other folks.
As for me, well. This blog has been one of the most formative elements of my life.
Started in the aftermath of a rocky Saturn return, I have found myself here, carved out a niche where I could be who I am, where I can change and grow and be witnessed. The practice of showing up to this space over the years – through good times and hard times – of pulling cards and sharing them with you, of spilling my strange prose-poetry, of learning that I have something to teach – has not been easy. Many, many times I have had to force myself, in sadness, in grief, in frustration, in fear – to sit down and put words into this space, just to keep the ball rolling. And, it has been the easiest thing in the world – for where else do I put my feelings, my experiences? This is the place I have chosen to share my life for seven years.
This is not to mention the friends I have made. Some of LRT’s writers have become my closest colleagues. I have internet friendships of a depth and quality I didn’t know was possible. I have found love and acceptance and connection through holding this space.
As a queer person, I have found myself here.
Though I have been out for a long time, I live in rural places, where queer community can be hard to find (much less queer community who like geeking about spirituality!) Being here with you has helped me to own my queerness as a political identity, helped form my ideas of what that means, and how I want to express that identity. I know from the countless emails and comments I’ve received that many of you, too, have found community and acceptance and encouragement here. And if there is one thing I want Little Red Tarot to have done, it is this.
There have been points in my life when I have felt utterly lost, and when having a role here, having a job to do and a community to do it for and with has kept me sane. I could keep hold of who I was, because I had a role to fulfil, and honestly, that has saved me over and over. Like many, I have a strong need to be needed, to be wanted, to have a purpose. LRT has fulfilled that need for many years.
And whilst it’s been overwhelmingly and beautifully positive, LRT has also consumed a lot of my life.
While it’s helped my hold on to myself in some difficult times, my relationship with my work has been far from healthy or balanced. I’ve worked too hard and come dangerously close to burnout, many times.
I’m ready to reclaim myself.
All of those disparate parts that have been sidelined, back-burnered, lost or forgotten. I am calling them all in.
And I am saying goodbye.
To a space and a practice that has meant more to me than I can say.
Thank you, for being here, for being you, for being part of this.
You are whole and perfect exactly as you are.
You are enough. I am enough. We are enough.
I love this space, and I love you.
I’m a 30-something writer, artist, tarot reader, and perpetual explorer of the space between thought, feeling, and action.
I believe that spirituality and ritual are for everybody. I’m about the journey, in all of its messy, non-linear, chaotic iterations. I am excited by anticapitalist business and living with my whole entire self present. I use tarot cards to bring forth hidden truth, and ritual to affirm my commitment, over and over, to my ever-shifting path.