Ok, so I woke up one morning and said to myself, "Hey, I'm tired of Christianity; I think I'll be Wiccan now!"

Nope, that's not how it happened, nor do I think that's how it happens to anyone. The change was gradual, and it took me years to decide that Wicca really was the path for me. Around age 12, I really began questioning, at least to myself, the foundation that Chrisitanity was based upon, and realized that it was kind of shaky. I stopped going to Sunday School and church, and I was basically in religious limbo for a few years. That didn't stop the visions from coming. About the time I hit puberty, I started having prophetic dreams. They never involved anything major, usually just school or home situations that didn't amount to a hill of beans in the long run. They'd just be short little dream snippets that would fade as I woke up. And then, either later that day, week, or sometimes months down the road, they'd come true. They scared me at first, and sometimes still do when they sneak up on me, but I've come to take them as a sign that I'm on the right path. I knew that if people found out I was having these visions, I'd be locked away, so I kept quiet, not knowing where to turn for help.

Then a trip to the Edinboro Summer Academy changed everything. I really shouldn't say it changed everything, but all the puzzle pieces I'd been holding in my lap suddenly put themselves together to form a rather clear picture. I felt that familiar tingle that would always preclude a vision coming true, and sure enough, it did. I was sitting next to a group of girls outside on the lawn, and one of them was sounding out the rest about Wicca, coming out to them, though some of them already knew about it. I sat there and listened for a long time, slowly inching closer, finally knowing that this is what these visions had been leading up to. But this was only the beginning of a long, hard road.

Once I got home from the camp, it was kind of hard to believe that anything of what I'd experienced with those six girls had happened in the first place. My parents were staunchly Christian, and I knew they'd object. And after all, who was I, to mess with the Divine, asking it to do things I couldn't do myself? I lacked resources, time, and self-confidence. These would all come to me in time.

As the years went on, I studied everything I could, though I never had the courage to actually try any magick spells. I usually limited myself to trying to see auras, and attempting to direct my visions, both to no avail. But once I was out on my own, the urge to try something came upon me stronger than ever. I leapt into the Circle with both feet, and I haven't regretted it since. It was unfortunate that I had some bad experiences growing up, and that I still have self-confidence issues, and so I could not enjoy the Craft during the years when all children believe magick is real, and not just an enlightened few, but that is the past. My view of Wicca has changed as I have learned more, but not for the worse. I am sure my view of it will change still as I grow and learn. But this is what the Craft is meant to be - a learning process, without which, we would stagnate.

Bright Blessings and good luck on your own magickal journey.