Morwenna Verch Annwn

To Those Who Wonder, Worry, or Whisper About My Path —

I’ve grappled with posting this, knowing that some of you — family, old friends — may feel confusion, discomfort, or even fear when you see Devil imagery in my work or hear me speak of the Old One with reverence and love.

Maybe you’ve unfollowed quietly. Maybe you’ve pulled away. Maybe you can’t quite reconcile the “sweet little girl” you remember with the woman who now walks this path so openly.

But I’ve changed. I’ve come home to myself. And it’s time I said this plainly:

I hold no love for Christianity.

I don’t say that to shock or wound. I say it because that religion — its god, its doctrine, its legacy of control and fear — inflicted deep harm on me. It taught me to see myself as broken, sinful, and in need of saving. It taught me to fear my own soul. That fear buried me for years, silencing my spirit and shrinking my light.

I had to unlearn that poison to become who I am.

I am a daughter of the Great Serpent. I’ve always felt it. Even when I was told to fear the Devil, something in me knew: this is where I belong. The being I was warned against — the one cast out, vilified, demonized — has never shown me anything but sovereignty, clarity, and power. That Devil is not your Satan. He is older, wilder, and rooted in truth that predates your Bible.

Fear not for me. I am safe. I am whole. I am free.

My child is safe, too — free from threats of Hell, free from the lie of “original sin.” He is being raised with reverence for nature, for spirit, and for choice. He’s learning about plants and stars and the sacred dark from which we all come. If one day he chooses Jesus, that will be his path — and I will honor it. But I will never force belief into his bones the way it was forced into mine.

I want to be clear: my hatred is for the institution, the indoctrination, the violence of a religion that crushed so many spirits like mine. But I do not hate those I love who still find peace or purpose in their own faith. I will not mirror the same judgment I’ve worked so hard to escape.

The folkloric Devil I walk beside is not the one you were taught to fear. Perhaps a shadow of him lives in your stories — but he is more than that. He is mystery. He is knowledge. He is the crossroads and the fire. And only a few are brave enough to meet him without flinching.

Image found on Pinterest titled: Kira Mva