My Path to Wicca: What Called Me and What I Found

I’ve found my way to Wicca more than once.
The first time was before I converted to Catholicism. Back then, I was looking for meaning, something that felt real and grounded. I’ve always found that in the natural world. Put me on a beach, in a forest, or at the top of a mountain, and something in me settles. It feels spiritual in a way I can’t quite explain, but I know it when I feel it.
Wicca made space for that. It treated nature as sacred, not just symbolic. That mattered to me.
But I didn’t stay. I eventually converted to Catholicism, and for a time, that felt right.
The second time I found my way back to Wicca was different. It wasn’t a sudden decision. It built slowly, almost quietly.
I started noticing a gap between what was taught and how people were actually living. It wasn’t one moment. It was a growing awareness that something didn’t line up. I tried to reconcile it. I told myself I could live with it, that no community is perfect. But over time, that gap got harder to ignore.
The question of women weighed on me too. I tried to make peace with it. I still think I can accept some parts of the structure, like male-only priests. But I struggled with the sense that women were somehow secondary, especially when I could clearly see how much of the Church actually runs on the quiet work of women.
And I don’t believe that reflects the heart of Jesus’ ministry. I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t have been possible without women.
At some point, it became a quiet realization: I couldn’t stay in something that felt that out of alignment.
But I also knew this about myself. I need spirituality in my life. I’ve tried to ignore that before, and it never really works. I feel it most in the ocean, in the stillness of the forest, in the quiet at the top of a mountain, in those places where everything slows down and something bigger feels close.
So I found my way back to Wicca.
This time, it felt both familiar and deeper. I found strong women. I found a sense of the Divine that included both masculine and feminine. I found a spirituality rooted in the natural world, not separated from it.
It felt honest.
And yet, it wasn’t the whole story for me.
There were things I missed. The sacraments, especially. The sense of continuity, of being part of something that stretched back through time. There was a depth there I couldn’t fully let go of.
So eventually, I found my way back again.
When I came back, it didn’t feel like going backward. It felt like arriving with new eyes.
I didn’t leave Wicca behind. I brought parts of it with me. A deeper reverence for nature. A clearer sense of the value and presence of women. A more grounded, lived experience of spirituality.
And in some ways, I’ve started to wonder if those things were always there, just less visible. Maybe they were part of the original roots, something that has been worn down or quieted over time.
I don’t have everything neatly resolved. I’m not sure I’m supposed to.
But I do know this. My path hasn’t been a straight line. And maybe it was never meant to be.