Witch, its been rough

Another day, another cozy spiral from your favorite emotionally layered, slightly feral, soft-core witch. 🖤✨

Before I start—yes, I’m talking to you. My quiet lurkers. My stealth-mode supporters. The ones who read every word but interact like you’re paying per click. I respect the mystery. It’s giving “I attend the coven meeting but sit in the back with the hood up.” Just know I appreciate you more than my sarcasm lets on.

Alright. Let’s talk witches. Again. Because I clearly have a type and it’s “magical woman with emotional depth.”

Yes, my cats are named after Piper and Phoebe Halliwell from Charmed. Yes, they absolutely embody responsible older sister energy and chaotic middle child energy. No, they are not my favorite witches. The betrayal continues.

My heart belongs to Cassie Nightingale from The Good Witch, played by Catherine Bell.

And the reason runs deeper than just “I like cozy small-town magic.”

My mom and I used to watch Catherine Bell in her shows together. That was our thing. Our ritual. The couch, the snacks, the shared commentary. It was ordinary and sacred all at once.

After my mom passed, anything connected to that felt untouchable. Grief has a way of putting caution tape around memories. I avoided her shows for a long time because I wasn’t ready to feel that much all at once.

But healing is sneaky.

When I finally started watching again—through The Good Witch first—it didn’t shatter me the way I expected. It felt warm. Bittersweet, yes. But warm. Like grief had softened just enough to let love be louder than the ache.

Cassie Nightingale became my favorite because she represents something I fight to keep intact in myself: softness without weakness.

She’s been through loss. Judgment. Life doing what life does best—being wildly inconvenient and occasionally cruel. And she still chooses kindness. She still opens her heart. She still believes in people.

That’s real magic.

Because let’s be honest—I have the ingredients for a villain origin story. The dark humor? Check. The sarcasm sharp enough to slice bread? Check. Emotional walls reinforced with “I’m fine” and a suspicious amount of independence? Absolutely.

But underneath all of that? I’m still soft. Still loyal. Still someone who feels everything deeply and just pretends not to.

I don’t want to lose that.

So while some witches wield power with spectacle, my favorite one wields it with grace. And that kind of quiet strength hits different.

Maybe that’s the real point of all this. We’ve all been through things that could’ve hardened us. Some days we are hardened. Some days we’re tired. Some days the walls go up automatically. But if you’re still choosing kindness—even cautiously, even imperfectly—that’s magic too.

Light the candle. Watch the comfort show. Let yourself feel the memories without running from them. Healing doesn’t have to be loud to be real. 🕯️

Thank you, Catherine Bell, for bringing warmth, grace, and a touch of magic into our living rooms—and into my life.