Way back when, when I was just a little tyke, I was living in a very bad place. I wouldn't find out until later, but my upbringing was in a cult environment, which has had several unsavory effects on my psychology. But even then, I was an avid outside person, and loved it just as much as I did the books that let me escape while inside. I have very little memory of anything before about age 8; yet since then, nature and animals and mythology have always held more of a draw to me than the stuffy, repressive Protestant fringe that I was surrounded by the rest of the time.

As I grew older, I started chafing at my religious bondage, mostly exacerbated by my discovery of sexuality and gender, and my own “abominable” version of that (for the record, I am a gay androgyne bio-male with a heavy kinky side, none of which was approved of). I was actually introduced to the concept of paganism through M. Z. Bradley's Mists of Avalon, and fell in love with it. I quickly moved out of the neo-Wicca stage and into Druidry when I entered college. I joined ADF, and attached myself (and some friends) to the local grove.

Personally, I was still exploring, and had started forming a relationship with Brighid, Who tolerated my latching onto Her, and Who led me to other of the Celtic Gods. Eventually, I found my way to Celtic Reconstructionism, and formed bonds with several lovely people. At that time, I was sure I had found my niche, because I was (and am) absolutely in love with everything Celtic... except haggis. I had my “patrons,” Brighid and Aranrhod and An Dagda and Badb, and was working with Manannán and Airmed to strengthen certain reciprocities between us.

Then, everything started changing. I'd always been someone who could talk to Them with only a little effort, but nothing really had been out of the ordinary until July '07, when I went on one of my semi-regular journeys to Celt-land1. When I arrived there, I was met by a Celtic God that I had never encountered before personally. We talked, and He offered me a drink of something. Being the God that brews the Ale of Immortality, I was suspicious of His motives; I took the tankard, but didn't drink it. He then told me I was expected at the Brú na Bóinne, the Dagda's palace (and the site of Newgrange in actual Ireland). When I arrived, I was met by a man who escorted me inside, and who I was quickly to find out was Óengus Mac ind Óg, the Dagda's son. The journey ended with Him taking me aside and us having sex.

From that moment on, my spiritual, and physical, life became a roller-coaster. I had a major falling out with two people I cared about greatly, and had a resurgence of major abandonment and self-worth issues that I had been repressing. February of the next year, He asked me to marry Him; shortly afterward, I met Svartesól (then Sigrún Freyskona) on Livejournal. In April of '08, while walking a labyrinth, I was ambushed by a party of Norse Gods, Who had a message for me from Odin. As the weeks and months went on, I started becoming more and more involved with certain of the Germanic Gods, and discovered various websites and books on the subject, as well as continuing conversations with Svartesól and others on Livejournal.

I was getting in good with Odin, as well as having friendly relationships with Loki and Freyja through the summer. In November, I came down with a two-week-long nasty case of respiratory illness. At the beginning, before it actually hit, Freyja came to me suddenly and warned me that I was sick. Later, She and Eir checked in on me every couple of days, and were doing things to help me heal faster, and quite possibly keep me from dying, as I have no health insurance and could not afford antibiotics. However, through the whole delirious ordeal, something She said to me stuck out: “We care for Our own.”

I'd been feeling a slight pull towards the Vanir for a little while, but had brushed it off based on some things Frey and Odin had said to me. But after that statement by Freyja, it got a lot stronger. Then, the day before Yule, I went on a journey to Vanaheim, my second time there (the first time was to work out a deal with Frey on behalf of a friend at Lammas). A lot of things occurred between me and Herself, including more sex and Her being assigned as my mentor, as well as another visit from Óengus, Who had backed off when I started working with the Germanic gods. Then, as soon as I had finished the journey, Nerthus barged in, and claimed me as Her own, and revealed that She was the one Who had assigned Freyja to teach me. The next day, Njord pulled me to Nóatún, and we had a talk about Nerthus' claim. Then Nerthus came again, and talked more about what Her claim meant.

The Vanir have always been good to me. I do have to admit that I never thought the Germanic Gods would ever want anything to do with me, because They always seemed too belligerent and macho for a non-aggressive, ergi bookworm; They have showed and taught me otherwise. And now, I really have come Home. Vane-home is my home, and the Vanir my People.


 
1 There are very few named mythic worlds in Irish mythology, and almost none of them are connected to mythic Ireland (similar to Midgard), with the major exception of Faerie/the lands of the Sidhe. So I just call where I went Celt-land, because it makes things easier.


© 2009 Nicanthiel Hrafnhild.