The Undomesticated Feminine: Why Your Nervous System Needs a Witch Who Decorates With Bones

(Or: How to stop being spiritually palatable and start being neurologically terrifying)

Listen, I know your vision board features a Bali yoga retreat and a Tesla with a vanity plate that reads “MNFST,” not “become a child-terrifying swamp witch whose house commits zoning violations on giant chicken legs.” But hear me out: What if Slavic mythology’s most unhinged crone is EXACTLY the neurological recalibration your filtered, kale-smoothie life is screaming for?

Your nervous system remembers a version of you that existed before you learned to make yourself digestible. Before you softened your edges for approval. Before you traded your roar for a whisper that wouldn’t disturb anyone’s comfort. Your fascia holds the blueprint of your undomesticated self, and she’s been scratching at the walls of your polite persona for years.

While Gwyneth Paltrow is selling you $75 candles that smell like enlightenment and ethereal pretension, Baba Jaga is out here decorating with actual human skulls and not giving a single folkloric fuck about your comfort zone. She doesn’t want to be your f…