Once upon a gaslighting…

There was a woman who gave everything. She wore the scrubs by day, kept the house running by night, and somewhere in between, she lost her voice. Not because she didn’t have something to say. But because she was trained not to speak.

You see, she loved someone who weaponized her kindness. He built a house on manipulation and called it home. And she, like many women taught to be everything—nurse, mother, partner, peacekeeper—stayed.

Longer than she should have.

Quieter than she wanted to be.

She took care of everyone except herself. Held down a job in healthcare like a damn warrior, came home to emotional warfare, and still managed to make dinner like nothing was breaking her spirit.

Until it did break.

And then one day, the weight of holding everything in snapped, and she didn’t just walk away—she scorched the earth behind her.

Because this isn’t a story of staying quiet.

It’s a story of resurrection.

She didn’t just leave—she rose.

From the trauma bond. From the manipulation. From the crushing silence of always being “too much” or “not enough.”

Now? She speaks, spells, and sells with fire. She’s not asking permission anymore. She’s not explaining her rage. And she damn sure isn’t apologizing for becoming a whole new woman built from ash, glitter, and unmatched audacity.

If you’re looking for her now, she’s not where you left her.

She’s at the head of a coven. She’s rewriting her story. And she’s proof that burning bridges is holy work when the road behind you was built on control.

With ash in her lashes and magic in her bones,

Phoenix Witch

Co-Owner, Survivor, Spell-Slinger, and Reclaimed Soul