Mynx Writes

You’ve spent years making yourself small. Small enough to fit someone else’s comfort zone. Small enough to avoid their anger, their judgment, their disappointment. Small enough to survive. And that shrinking? It wasn’t weakness. It was strategy. It was protection. It was magic of its own—the magic of endurance. But you were never meant to stay small. You were never meant to fold yourself into corners. You were never meant to live in the space between your own dreams. It’s time to unshrink. To take up space. To spread your singed wings, rise from the ash, and hex the hell out of the expectations that tried to cage you. 🔥 Why We Shrink Ourselves From childhood, from trauma, from patriarchy, from capitalism, from systems designed to keep us small—we learn to shrink. We learn that quiet is safer than loud. That agreeable is safer than fierce. That invisible is safer than seen. We shrink to survive. But survival is not where the story ends. 🕯 Signs You’re Still Shri...

You don’t need a full moon, a perfectly arranged altar, or a six-hour ceremony to heal. You need magic that meets you where you are—curled up in bed, still in yesterday’s clothes, too tired to light a candle without groaning. This is for the witches who are burned out, spoonies, the neurospicy, the survivors. The ones who are so damn tired but still reaching for something sacred. 🕯 Why Low-Spoon Magic Matters Healing shouldn’t require energy you don’t have. The idea that you have to “do it right” or make it elaborate can keep you stuck, feeling like even your magic isn’t good enough. Small, simple acts hold huge power—especially when survival is the ritual. 🌙 Low-Spoon Ritual Ideas One-breath blessings: Just one slow breath, done with intention. Over your coffee, your meds, your water. That’s a spell. Pocket charms: Keep a charged stone, bead, or coin in your pocket or under your pillow. Grip it when you can’t do anything else. Whispered spells: No tools, no s...

Raise your hand if you’ve been personally victimized by the phrase “Just take a deep breath.” For neurospicy witches, that advice feels about as useful as telling a wildfire to calm down. When your nervous system is short-circuiting, breathwork isn’t the vibe—it’s just another reminder that you’re “too much” for a world built for quiet, polite magic. This isn’t about finding serenity in a meadow. It’s about sacred stimming, rage-crying in the bath, cursing into your tarot deck, and reclaiming emotional regulation on your terms. 🌩️ Why “Calm Down” Doesn’t Work (and You’re Not Broken) Neurodivergent brains process emotions differently —bigger, louder, wilder. Breathwork, mindfulness, and “just regulate” advice can backfire , leaving you feeling more out of control. The shame spiral: When you can’t “just calm down,” you start believing you’re failing—at healing, at witchcraft, at life. You’re not. The world is just bad at teaching you how to regulate in ways that fit your br...

You can’t “high vibe” your way out of burnout. You can’t smudge away systemic oppression or positive-think your trauma into oblivion. You can’t light enough candles or chant enough mantras to make reality less… real. If you’ve ever been told to “just send love to it” or “raise your vibration” when your soul is dragging itself through the mud—you’ve met spiritual bypassing . And if you’re not careful? It’ll burn you out faster than any hex could. 💀 What the Hell is Spiritual Bypassing? Spiritual bypassing is when we use spiritual practices or beliefs to dodge the hard, messy, painful stuff we don’t want to face. It’s pretending we’re above anger, grief, or fear. It’s slapping a “love and light” sticker over a cracked foundation and hoping no one notices it’s falling apart. In witchy spaces, it can look like: “Everything happens for a reason.” “Good vibes only.” “You just need to align your energy.” “Manifest it—don’t dwell on it.” And while these ideas might sound h...

—A witchy interruption, a middle finger to burnout culture, and a PSA from the screaming void. You were expecting a shiny new PDF today, weren’t you? A fresh little bundle of shadow work, lovingly stitched together for your weekly descent into the emotional trenches? Yeah. So was I. Instead, what I got was a cursed design session that chewed through my spoons like a possessed paper shredder. Fonts misbehaving. Layouts gaslighting me. Entire pages vanishing like interns during Mercury retrograde. And after the seventh round of screaming into the design abyss, I had a choice to make: Ruin myself trying to meet a self-imposed deadline… or hex the whole schedule and walk away with my spine intact. Guess which one I picked. 🖤 Not a Flake. Not a Failure. Just Feral Priorities. Let me say this once, loud enough for the burned out witches in t...

Ever been told you’re too sensitive or too reactive —when all you did was name the thing no one else wanted to look at? That’s not drama. That’s clarity. But clarity makes cowards squirm. And when they flinch, they frame you as the threat. Let’s talk about the witch wound that hides behind “being nice” and “keeping the peace.” It’s not actually peace if you have to disappear to keep it. They didn’t teach you safety. They taught you to be agreeable enough to survive discomfort you didn’t cause. You weren’t loud—you were clear . You weren’t sabotaging—you were surviving . You weren’t broken—you were bending around other people’s fear . But here’s the truth, beloved wild thing: 🧨 You’re not the threat. You’re the spark. The flare. The damn signal fire. And they didn’t like what that light revealed—so they told you to dim it. And you? You internalized it. You learned to shrink. To soften. To pre-apologize. This week’s Ko-fi prompts are for the version of yo...

Ever been called too much ? Too loud. Too sensitive. Too angry. Too “weird,” “intense,” “dramatic,” or some other shapeshifting label meant to shrink you down to something more manageable? That wasn’t ever really about you . That was about someone staring into the mirror of your presence and recoiling at the reflection they weren’t ready to see. Not the distortion you’ve been accused of being—but the truth they buried and hoped would stay dead. Welcome to the first Witch Wound: Projection & Triggers. This one cuts deep and early. It shows up when your very existence becomes a mirror—reflecting back the shame, rage, ambition, wildness, or grief others were taught to suppress. And instead of owning it? They throw it at you. Wrap it in judgment. Call it dangerous. Call you dangerous. You ask too many questions. You feel too much. You want too much. You see too clearly. And they flinch. And blame. And project. But the mirror isn’t broken, witch. 🪞 You’...