You are not born a witch, you become one.
I’ve been seeing a reemergence of the narrative that everyone is “a witch deep down” or “there’s witchcraft in all of us” this just isn’t the case and never has been. While the opportunity is available to everyone…
Not everyone will or should take it.
Witch-fire is not passed down in the blood.
It is not a gift that lies dormant in every soul, waiting to be stirred.
Folklore and history, the ways recorded in stories and confessions, say otherwise:
The powers of the witch are not innate.
They are taken, offered, or bought.
And the price is always high.
Sometimes you are tempted,
sometimes you are desperate,
and sometimes you are simply lured to say yes.
Catherine Remy of Belgium in 1603, said the Devil came to her when she was in need. He offered her power, not with force, but a touch to the forehead and chest, freely accepted. After that, she could heal, curse, and know things no ordinary person should.
(Van Haverbeke, Les procès de sorcellerie à Tournai, 1895)
In 1579, Jeanne Harvilliers of France said a dark figure came to her at night and gave her oil and powder. She rubbed it on herself and flew through the air, transformed, and brought harm to those who wronged her. She said she served him in exchange for those powers.
(Jean Bodin, De la démonomanie des sorciers, 1580)
William Barton of Scotland, said he met a woman in the woods who gave him a new name and scratched a mark into his skin. after that, he could see what others could not. he renounced his baptism and gave her his soul.
(Pitcairn, Criminal Trials in Scotland, vol. 3)
This is the witch-fire.
The black flame.
The crooked gift.
It is not within you by birth, though there are those who are oil-blooded, born to burn.
The ones that are called to this dark art and are sought after by the witching spirits, those who can smell the petroleum flowing within.
But for the fire, you go out to find it.
You trade for it.
You are engulfed by it.
And the cost?
Your name, your soul. Your place in the world as it was.
This is one of the reasons why the witches of the past were feared, because this path didn’t happen to them, they chose it. They had given themselves over to the spirits, to the night, to the woods. They weren’t forced to do it, they made a conscious decision to accept it.
You aren’t born a witch.
You become one, when you say yes to the fire
and leave the rest of yourself behind, in ashes.
This *needed* to be said. I too have seen the "born witch" nonsense going around, albeit not on Tumblr specifically, and it drives me up the wall. Even for me, a person whose spirits definitely meddled in things to get me where they wanted, I still stand by the idea that witchcraft is an active choice. Even if you were born with the Sight or something, that's a predisposition to magic, and not necessarily witchcraft.
I also 100% stand by the idea that not everyone can or should take the opportunity. I love what I do and I couldn't imagine myself doing anything else, but this is not the optimal situation for the vast majority of people.
(occult arts might need to stay occulted etc etc)
Well and and and this goes for the people that claim ancient line 76 generation warlock bs. But also goes for the people that claim that everyone is born a witch/has magic and that all it takes is “remembering” that you do nonsense
On the Notion of Cradle Witches
I understand why some might feel the urge to reject, question, or even mock the idea that someone can be born a witch. The claims of being a “cradle witch,” “blood witch,” or “witch by lineage” often come across as self-aggrandizing, especially when such claims can’t be proven. It’s easy to see how these titles, when worn like badges of superiority, may feel pretentious or exclusionary. But I’d like to offer a different perspective, one drawn from Estonian folklore and mythology, which suggests a far more complex and older truth: that some witches are indeed born not made.
Much of our early Estonian mythology has been lost, but the fragments that remain point to a deep-rooted duality in how witches were understood. Terms like nõid and tark once marked a distinction between harmful and beneficial practitioners. Over time, and particularly due to the forceful spread of christianity and the accompanying witch-hunts, these terms became conflated. All practitioners, whether healers, seers, or spellcasters, were lumped into the same dangerous category.
Because of this, much of the folklore that has survived is tainted by christian interpretations, festivals, and doctrines. Still, echoes of the older worldview persist. One recurring motif in folklore is the belief that certain children are born marked by their fate. For instance, a child born with teeth or with a full head of hair was often said to be destined to become a witch. While modern circles may dismiss such ideas, these motifs were once taken seriously.
An especially eerie sign was the birthmark known as koolja kindad - “gloves of the dead”when remnants of the placenta covered the child’s hands. Such children were believed to be fated for a short life, but this belief isn’t directly tied to witches. Still, it illustrates how birth itself was once viewed as a moment when the veil between worlds could reveal truths about one’s destiny.
Christian influence didn’t stop at rebranding witches, it altered the perception of how one is born as well. Fridays, once sacred in Estonian folk belief as days of fertility and fortune, were recast as unlucky. Christian folklore introduced the idea that a child breastfed on three “good fridays” would become a witch. Similar superstitions appeared around other holidays connected to their god’s suffering, showing how old beliefs were overwritten but not fully erased.
Yet beyond these christianized notions lies a more enduring thread: the idea that witchcraft runs in families. In Estonia, many witches believe their power to be inheritedt through the passing down of knowledge, spells, and charms. This transmission was almost always oral. Though a handful of written spells have survived, most teachings were passed from parent to child, spoken in kitchens and forests, not scribbled into grand grimoires. And if a witch died without passing on their knowledge, folklore says they could not rest, either lingering painfully or taking their secrets to the grave, lost forever.
Family lineage plays a central role in Estonian witchcraft. Written accounts highlight how important these lines of transmission were, and how uniquely egalitarian they could be. Unlike neighboring cultures that often passed knowledge along gendered lines, Estonian witches seemed less bound by such structures. Knowledge could skip generations, cross gender boundaries, or flow between equals. There are even stories of witches who refused the gift or forgot the words.
These witches of lineage are often the ones most sought after in Estonia. And yes, I speak from personal experience. I am, in some way, a cradle witch myself. My grandmother read playing cards. My mother worked with herbs, symbols, and candles - all the tools of our folk practice, we had a serpent as a family familiar. The path was always there. I only began consciously walking it about a year ago, after years of eclectic practice.
I know the original poster, whose comments sparked this reflection, seems to walk an eclectic path as well. That’s valid. Many of us draw from various traditions, weaving together a practice that feels personal and true. But eclecticism sometimes blurs the line between historical grounding and unverified personal gnosis (UPG). And while personal experience is powerful, we must be cautious when drawing broad conclusions from it.
I understand the impulse behind the post, the frustration when someone claims to be more powerful, more “real,” because of a supposed birthright or past life. This kind of spiritual elitism deserves scrutiny. The esoteric community has its fair share of frauds and snake oil peddlers. Many claim ancient grimoires or bloodline magic to sell an image or a product. Skepticism is not only healthy but necessary.
But in the rush to protect ourselves from pretenders, let’s not erase those who carry something real. Some witches are born into their craft, not to dominate others or prove superiority, but because it is simply the soil they grew from. Some chase devils, letting them fashion the witch into Satan’s oil lamp, burning themselves as His infernal fire. Others, like us, are born not to burn, but to bloom.
My friend, in my post If you read again, you’ll see I referenced something called oil-blooded people. I didn’t expand too much on it but the oil-blooded people are the people you describe in your reply that are marked and/or have calling towards witchery.
My mention of it was brief so I can see how it was easy to miss, but my post is not about how no one can be born into a lineage or into circumstances that lead them towards witch-hood.
I’m specifically calling out the trend that “everyone is a witch, you just have to remember you are” motif or the “I come from an ancient line of wicca” cosplayers.
There was nothing impulsive about my post, you just didn’t understand what I was getting it or what it was directed to.
It seems the tone of my post may have been misunderstood, and I want to clarify that I meant no offense. When I said “I understand the impulse,” it was never meant to imply that your post was impulsive - only that I understood the motivation behind it. I actually read your post several times, top to bottom, before writing my response.
Your original post clearly states that witches are not born, and it goes into considerable depth citing witch-hunt records and confessions to support that claim. My intention was simply to offer a different perspective - one rooted in a culture where witches are, in fact, often considered to be born rather than made. I wasn’t trying to challenge your personal practice or invalidate your points, only to add a viewpoint that reflects a different tradition.
Your post, as I understand it (and please correct me if I’m wrong), is written from the perspective of the Devil playing a central initiating role. That worldview shapes the path you're speaking from. In contrast, Estonia doesn’t have deities or devils in the same way. While some mythological beings may now be labeled as gods, they did not begin that way, and none serve as initiators into witchcraft. The only connection between the Devil and witches in Estonian folklore comes from christian dogma, which most Estonian witches reject outright.
So to reiterate: my response was meant to highlight a cultural context in which witches do not make pacts with devils or gods to become witches - they simply are. Some are born that way, some become witches because of the circumstances of their birth, and others are changed by forces that have nothing to do with deity or pact. That doesn't contradict your path, but it does challenge the idea that there is only one way.
I shared my perspective not to dismiss yours, but to broaden the conversation. I did also condemn the people that you condemned in my original post. I even quoted your oil-blooded witches in the last paragraph.
All the Best.
