Courage & Honour

I had a big plan for the midnight ceremony and I was excited about it. I had a bag packed with all of the materials I would need, I talked it up during opening circle, saying I wanted everyone’s help for a personal project. I was set. The plan was solid.

The night was in full swing, everyone was fucking and laughing, hot gay sex was everywhere. I was swept up in a deeply sexy conversation with Mars’s new partner about the value of queer joy (while we watched Beth grin during a spanking). I caught a peek at the time and excused myself, it was a quarter to midnight, I hopped into action, let Ms.O know it was time to start rounding guests up for the ceremony.

I scurried over to the back corner where my bag was tucked away, and as I reached down and touched it my whole body went cold. Until that moment I was in my head, thinking logistics; my plan was to put my old wedding dress on and give everyone gorgeous fabric paints, and talk about the power of transformation while we decorate it together. And then with O’s help I would marry the coven. We made this plan with love, and I was excited imagining this butterfly spell and giving that beautiful dress a more beautiful meaning now that I’m divorced.

The moment I reached into the bag I was back in my body, and so loudly, clear as a bell; my body said no. This was not part of the plan, but the second I saw the wedding dress I felt so strongly that I did not want to touch it. I didn’t want to take it out, or wear it, I didn’t want it to be here… but we had a plan. I was frozen in the corner, stunned with this discovery. What do I do? Something inside of me screamed “Find O.” So I did.

She pulled me into the back bar room, her eyes full of love and presence. “What’s going on?” she asked, but I didn’t have the words yet. I didn’t really understand it myself, how do I explain that my guts suddenly said NO when this whole thing was my idea? As I was stuck stammering, I saw Betty and Lexie sail past us down the hallway, prosecco bottles and champagne glasses in hand. I took a deep breath, my blood started flowing again. The relief of knowing our people saw that something was amiss, stepped up to keep the party flowing and give us a moment to convene. My heart was in my throat, it made me feel so held to see them jump in without a word, just sensing I needed them. It made me feel so loved.

I started spinning a patchwork of reasons why it didn’t feel right (…Joie wasn’t here, and my ex’s friends’ wife was here, and I didn’t want eyes on me that way it felt too vulnerable all of a sudden, but it was more than that, I was having so much fun! And I didn’t want to dampen everyone’s good time with my wedding dress, which was supposed to be symbolic but it suddenly just felt sad, and maybe that’s because the court just sent confirmation that our papers went through yesterday and suddenly it’s more real and oddly anti-climactic and it didn’t feel the way I thought it would, but mostly this party has a vibe tonight and this is not it, plus I wasn’t sure what we would do INSTEAD and that’s a whole other thing where…) she told me all my reasons were enough. My no was enough. She told me it was okay, that everyone would support me, that I had nobody to worry about pleasing. “It’s the perfect opportunity to practice listening to your body,” she said. (This is why it’s a good idea to let your besties know what you’re working on in therapy I guess.)

I knew she was right, I just needed a minute to get there. Piper walked by and saw my face, came in concerned. Bee and Eden followed in. I had a huddle of love around me, I explained the hiccup and they all echoed O, “it’s okay to change the plan.”

Now, I’m a girl who loves a plan, you know this. Details and logistics are my forte. So much of my hesitation here was that the midnight ceremony was my job and I had no Plan B. You would be proud to know it only took me a moment to pivot. I grabbed the two candles I’d brought along, O cut up tiny pieces of paper and followed me to the parlour.

Everyone was already gathered, sitting and waiting for us. I sat on the floor in the middle of the room, lit the candles and the joint in my hands and looked around the circle as I I inhaled. I was home. I was safe. The words just spilled out of me. I told everyone what happened, that I’ve been working really hard on listening to my body, on honouring what’s best for me instead of enduring out of some sense of obligation or honour. I confided to them how hard it was as the person in charge to just let go. I thanked O for giving me time to process, and thanked her for staying steady when I needed her.

I asked everyone to take a piece of paper when they were ready and think of something they wanted to charge up with more power, feed, or something they wanted to let go of. If they wanted to empower I asked them to burn their paper in the white candle, which was shaped like a woman’s face covered in flowers. If they wanted to let go I asked them to burn their paper in the black candle, the feminine divinity candle we’ve used in several coven ceremonies. There was no order, everyone just took their turn intuitively, one at a time, when they were ready. It was beautiful. Both of the flames burned white hot and high. The energy in the room was thick. This felt right. My whole body knew this was right.

When it was my turn I was ready to let go, I burned my paper in the black candle. Half of it lit up and turned to ash, the other half fell into the pool of wax below, still intact. Crisp white paper on soft black wax. This hadn’t happened to anyone else’s, I tensed up, I wanted to pick the paper up, it was mocking me. Madeleine’s voice came calmly from behind me, “let it go…”

I knew she was right. I settled back down and watched the next person take their turn. I trusted the universe. And as friend after friend burned their paper the wax slowly spilled and drowned my paper too. I watched it soak up the black dripping liquid and sink into the deep. Gone. It just took patience, and some help from my friends.

When the ceremony was over and everyone had burned their paper we all went outside on the front porch to howl at the full moon. Release in laughter and awoooooooooo.

The next morning I noticed the candle for fuelling and feeding hope was burned all the way down. We needed it. Pieces of wick and burnt paper remain, one of them in the shape of an ‘s’.

The candle for letting go was still in tact, wax pooled around the bottom. I feel peaceful knowing the things I wanted to release were swallowed by the candle, this divine feminine energy, and my friends.

It wasn’t the midnight ceremony I had planned, but I had the courage to be honest with myself and my people, and we got everything we needed.

Midnight Ceremony - Sapphic Slumber Party #12 (February 2024)