BABALON THE SCARLET WOMAN

In the spiraling depths of my journey through trans womanhood, braided into my mystical devotion, a primal hunger for potent feminine energy has always thrummed inside me—never tame, always wild. My earliest dreams danced with the magic of women ablaze in their sexual sovereignty, their allure both fierce and sacred. Even as a child, I sensed that feminine desire wasn’t just beauty—it was a raw, spellbinding power. I yearned to claim it as my own.

At age eleven, spellbound and innocent, I glimpsed her midnight echo. At the time both my parents were practicing Jehovah’s Witnesses, and attended meetings three times a week. I remember a particular book that the congregation had studied. This big hard covered scarlet book called “Revelation—Its Grand Climax At Hand!”. And in a way it had become my forbidden grimoire.. Its pages pulsed with shadow and mystery, but one image burned my spirit open: a woman riding a blazing, seven-headed beast. They called her “Babylon the Great”—an omen meant to terrify, yet she dazzled me. Wicked, they said, yet in her defiant posture, I found the first glimmer of witch-kin within myself. Eleven marked the threshold: my initiation into the ecstatic conjuring of goddess and magickal womanhood.

Years later, when I was about twenty-six, woven deeper into witchcraft’s wild tapestry, her sigil called again—brighter, nearer to my flesh. Already a devotee of The Craft, my soul craved an even more intoxicating current. Hermetics, Thelema, Luciferian rites: in every path, the same avatar shimmered, an untamed arc of divine feminine power. She was not only goddess, but an irresistible storm. They all called her Babalon…..blood and flame incarnate. I read, I studied, and soon my longing grew to invocation. She is not only learned—she is summoned, lived, devoured. I became her priestess, letting her fever charge my spellwork, transmute my lust, blossom my dark hungers into holy ecstasy. This became very evident as I allowed her energy and force to live vicariously through me with my relationships with men..

But who is Babalon? Or better yet, who is she to me?

She is the Supreme Divine Feminine, the sexual sovereign and the earthly Scarlet Woman—her blood is the root and rain, her touch the velvet darkness between stars. She is chalice and serpent, both the shadow and the dawn, the flame that renders me boundless. Each rite, each lover, each rebellion against shame—she is there, licking the altar clean, crowning me in roses and thorns. To embody her is to drink deep of cosmic desire and mystical whoredom. Babalon is not just goddess to me; she is magick’s fiery pulse, the lover ever rising behind my eyes..