Modern-day witch shares secret that led to her self-discovery
‘So many things kept me in the ‘broom closet’ A new CBC doc follows Laura Hokstad's journey
I stood in a small room adorned with hundreds of porcelain dolls, their glass eyes staring at me. I took off all my clothes and put on a stranger's robe. As I left the room, I felt stiff and cold, as if I was outside of my body. I felt the wet grass on my bare feet as I stepped out of the house and onto the lawn. I walked down a hill to the place where the initiation ceremony was to begin. The whole experience was made even stranger by the camera crew following me.
"One foot in front of the other," my inner voice said. "Walk normally. Look excited, not nervous." These commands stirred up old feelings.
At the bottom of the hill was a fire and a circle made from poured salt. A group of people wearing cloaks welcomed me. The High Priestess Anne-Marie, wearing a crown and wielding a large sword, began the initiation ritual. I remember feeling very out of place.
I first met the High Priestess when we began filming the CBC documentary, Coven. Our meeting was exciting but intense.
"What if she thinks I'm a fake? Or tells me I don't belong?" I thought. Giving a relative stranger power over my sense of identity made me feel vulnerable. Why did I need her approval?
As a child, I wanted to be liked and feel like I fit in. But, I always felt like I was on the outside looking in, and for a long time, I didn't know why.
In my early twenties, I was deeply closeted. I would see my girlfriends laughing and hugging each other, taking selfies cheek to cheek. They seemed so comfortable with each other, but I always pulled back. I didn't want to touch them because I feared what would happen if they found out I was gay.
Looking back, I know now that this was my own internalized homophobia and a deep fear of not belonging. I always felt like I was wearing a costume to look like the person I thought I should be.
Although I knew who I was early on, so many things kept me in the 'broom closet'.
When I was approached by Rama Rau, an amazingly powerful feminist director to participate in a film about feminism and witchcraft in the modern age, I had been out to my family and friends as a witch for about five years and as a lesbian for only one. My self-discovery was just beginning.
Rau was looking for someone with an interest in witchcraft but who had not developed a full practice. That was me! For so long, I felt drawn to all things magic, supernatural, and esoteric. But something always kept me from pursuing it further. So this was my opportunity to pursue it, to quiet those voices that always said, "This isn't for you; you're not enough."
While filming Coven, I knew my world was starting to change when I met my second cousin Kathleen for the first time. I sat in her lovely Huntsville backyard, butterflies all around, with my sister by my side. This felt different from the initiation ritual. It was like I was stepping out on a big adventure to discover who I was.
Kathleen Beveridge is our family historian and has charted our family history going back hundreds of years. She told me that my ninth great-grandmother, Mary Towne-Esty, had been killed during the Salem witch trials.
Watch | Hokstad learns about her ancestor's past.
This was a huge revelation and sparked my desire to know more. Maybe the things I'd been feeling were grounded in familial history.
With the research Kathleen had started, I was able to trace my family back to Scotland where I met Lord Moncreif, a local historian. He is the descendant of those responsible for starting one of the witch trials in Scotland and with his help, I discovered I had family who were persecuted as witches there as well.
It was surreal to meet a person whose family had persecuted my own. But Lord Moncreif has been working to make amends for the harm his family caused and has created a beautiful garden maze as a tribute to the 13 women who were murdered.
Watch | Hokstad tours a memorial maze in Scotland
Over the next year of filming Coven, I felt myself growing more confident in my identity as a witch. Meanwhile, my personal life changed too. I was out to everyone in my life and lucky enough to be accepted by most. No more secrets. And I had met someone; my girlfriend who I have been with for three years and who loved all of me, even my witchy side.
I had come so far from that person standing in a stranger's robe, feeling cold and alone. This part of my journey culminated with my experience at Stonehenge. Being on that sacred land, an area I could trace my family back to, I felt powerful and confident.
And when I stepped through the stone circle this time, in my own robe, I knew exactly who I was. A witch. A lesbian. A partner. A sister. A daughter. A friend.
I was enough.
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