Hi, I’m Ashley. Psychic Medium by birth. Witch by choice.

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Picture it: a frigidly cold January night in 1985. A little girl is born 2 weeks late, but far too tiny and barely able to breathe. She was whisked away from her mother without a word, who thought for certain her baby was dead. By some miracle, air hit that baby's lungs. She had to be kept in an incubator for 2 weeks, but she was alive. That baby was me (duh).

 

It is my full and heartfelt belief that the powers that be couldn't decide if I should move among the mortal world, or remain in the spirit realm-so they made me a part of both. And thus, a tiny Medium was born.

I also have a blue birthmark above my heart that the doctors could never explain. I've since learned this is called a "Witches Mark" and surely would have gotten me killed a few hundred years ago (not to brag or anything). Perhaps I'm not a witch by choice at all, and I just needed time to settle into my skin. Like Buffalo Bill in a freshly tailored lady suit. 

 

My intuitive gifts showed up early and uninvited. I suppressed them as much as possible yet remained inextricably drawn to magic and the paranormal. There was no handbook for my "affliction" in the ‘90s.  My tween brain was heavily influenced by cult classics like The Craft, Practical Magic, The Silence of the Lambs, Beetlejuice...and it showed.​

 

I was the sleepover menace who'd casually suggest summoning spirits for fun. Ouija board? Already set up. Bloody Mary? Mirror freshly windex'd. Light as a feather stiff as a board? Assume the position, ladies.

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Stephen King inadvertently saved my sanity. When I received a message or vision that scared me (which was often) I'd lock it in a heavy chest that I had created in my mind; tucked indefinitely into my subconscious. My sister's boyfriend gifted me a copy of  The Shining when I was about 15. To my shock and delight, Danny did exactly the same thing when he was overwhelmed by spectral messages. Maybe I wasn't alone, after all? I've been a King fangirl ever since.

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I didn't fully embrace my abilities until my early 30's. At that time, I was a lonely stay-at-home mom in an unhealthy marriage, 3,000 miles from everyone I'd ever know. My husband had recently accepted a job offer in Portland. I adored Oregon. I felt completely at home the second the plane landed. I spent my days learning the lay of the land, turning our rental house into a home and caring for our 3 young children (2, 5 and 8 at the time). Staying home with them is the best decision I’ve ever made...but....goddamn. I was overwhelmed, overstimulated, over caffeinated, chronically exhausted even though I had enough coffee coursing through my veins to power a train engine. Although I was never actually alone, I was achingly lonely.

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I crafted the first Salem Witches Retreat in 2019 with mild delusion and one simple intention: sisterhood. Purposefully small and thoughtfully curated to be playful yet profoundly healing, like the sleepovers of yore I so proudly terrorized back in my day. Woven with comfort, connection and just the right amount of campy enchantment. I had a hunch I wasn’t the only woman longing for such a thing. It sold out in 48 hrs. It appeared I was right (I’m psychic, remember?). That sacred nostalgic magic hadn’t disappeared with age. It was simply waiting to be resurrected.

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Since that first retreat, I’ve hosted many more. I now have a coven of over 60 women and counting. Ranging from their 20s into their 70s, from all walks of life. But somehow, within the walls of our shared home, it doesn’t matter how old we are or where we came from. We’re just a bunch of girls living, laughing, staying up far too late, occasionally summoning spirits and—most importantly—healing.

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I have more group chats than I can reasonably manage. Pregnancy announcements. Wedding
invitations. Collective spell casting. Reunion trips that have taken us to the Crescent Hotel, The Stanley, New Orleans and beyond. Witchcraft—and the women it has brought into my life— gave me the courage to become the truest version of myself and build a life that actually feels like mine. My highest wish is to hold that space for other women.

 

A witch never truly walks alone. If you've been searching for your place, welcome home. 

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I can't wait to meet you.​

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Stay spooky,

Ashley xo