Anicca

If tarot decks had personalities, the Everyday Witch Tarot would be that cool aunt who brings wine to game night, tells you the unfiltered truth even when it stings, and somehow always knows when Mercury is in retrograde!

Released on 8 January 2017, this deck by Deborah Blake (with illustrations by Elisabeth Alba) is the perfect mix of magical whimsy and modern-day sass. It is like a spellbook wrapped in a self-help journal, illustrated with the cutest black cats you’ve ever seen.


Let’s start with the aesthetics, because yes, we all judge this book by its cover. The artwork is very detailed and absolutely alive. These aren’t your medieval, overly cryptic tarot cards that make you feel like you need a PhD in symbolism to decode them. Each card in this deck feels like a scene straight out of a fantasy novel where the protagonist is also figuring out how to pay the rent, adulting, and what the hell their crush meant by “you are like a friend to me.”

The cards feature modern witches on brooms, in kitchens, riding bicycles, practicing yoga, and occasionally looking like they might hex someone who cut them in line. It is absolutely relatable (if you are a witch) and delightful. There’s something incredibly grounding about seeing magical characters in relatable everyday settings, it makes the messages feel less “from the beyond” and more like they’re coming from a wise bestie who also happens to read runes on the side.

One of the standout things about the Everyday Witch Tarot is how approachable it is. You don’t need to know what a pentacle is or pretend you’ve memorized all 78 cards to get started. The images are clear, expressive, and emotionally intuitive. If you’ve ever read a meme and thought “too real,” you’re halfway to reading this deck. And, just in case you would like to know what a pentacle is, then there is the guidebook. It is not one of those “this card means chaos, good luck” situations. It is detailed, conversational, and genuinely helpful. You get upright and reversed meanings and explanations that go beyond the surface. The guide also has suggested spreads that aren’t just “past, present, future and a panic attack.” It is built to make you feel smart and seen.

What makes this deck truly special is how it mixes in traditional tarot archetypes with everyday context. The Fool? A witch stepping off a cliff with a cat and a suitcase because sometimes, life is just a vibe and a leap. The Lovers? Less dramatic angel-on-high, more “let’s do this together even if it’s messy.” This blend of classic symbolism with everyday imagery helps your brain actually connect with the message. You’re not trying to remember what the Ten of Swords meant from that dusty Rider-Waite-Smith PDF you downloaded in 2011. You’re just looking at a relatable scene that instantly says, “Yup. Been there. Felt that.”


The Everyday Witch Tarot has the kind of energy that makes you want to journal, light a candle, and be kinder to yourself; all without slipping into toxic positivity. It’s warm. Encouraging. Slightly cheeky. And whether you’re doing a one-card pull before breakfast or an elaborate twelve-card spread because Mercury just retrograded all over your plans; this deck shows up for you. It’s also a great emotional support deck when you’re spiraling. (I don’t need to explain how I know, do I?) This deck is equally great for deep introspection, practical guidance, and “I-just-need-a-sign” moments. You can use it to explore relationships, career changes, spiritual growth, or to dramatically whisper “show me my path” while sipping chai on a Tuesday. It works for everything, really. Except maybe tax advice… even magic has limits.

Some stories are written with ink on paper, while others are carved into the heart by time.
This one was never meant to be written. 

This post is inspired by the lyrics of 'Don't say you love me' by Jin, from the album Echo. It is partly based on true story & partly fictionalised. Which part is real and which part is fictionalised is for me to know and you to guess.

This story began like most stories people romanticise in retrospect: two college kids in love with music, mischief, and each other’s company. They were in the same class and were part of the same circle. They were always seen together; planning pranks and walking aimlessly for hours, laughing like time would never run out. And somewhere in the middle of a mountain trail, when he offered his hand to help her cross a ridge, she thought, Maybe I don’t have to do everything alone anymore.

That moment felt like a promise. Not in words. Just in the way he held space for her independence and offered care anyway. It cracked something open in her, something she didn’t know had been sealed shut since childhood.

They fell in love. Or she did.

The story should have ended long before it began to rot.

Unfortunately it did not. And so, after a few years of dating, they got married. And slowly, he stopped walking beside her. Not physically, no. He was still there in the literal sense. But  he had wandered off in every way that  actually mattered. He left her to carry the weight of two families, a job, a home, and the growing silence in between.

He let her burn quietly. Gaslit her when their world struck her with words that wounded deeper than any slap. He watched, shrugged, and called it normal or denied everything and said it never happened. He said he loved her.

But love, she learned, doesn’t ask you to bleed quietly just to keep the peace of one person.

The breaking point wasn’t loud and did not come with announcements or guidelines.

It came when she fell sick and the fever wouldn’t let go for long months. He didn’t check on her. He didn’t help. He didn’t care. The man who once reached out to catch her on rocky mountain trails now wouldn’t so much as lift a finger when she was falling apart.

Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.

And that’s when the lyrics came to her. Like a cold truth whispered through, Jin’s voice shining as always: 

Don't tell me that you're gonna miss me
Just tell me that you wanna kill me
Don't say that you love me 'cause it hurts the most
You just gotta let me go

Because if this was love, she didn’t want it.

Now, she feels… nothing.

No rage. No heartbreak. Just stillness.

She looks at that chapter like an old coat in the back of her closet — heavy, shapeless, no longer hers. She survived 15 long years with him. She can survive anything. She’s stronger. Sharper. More cynical, maybe, but also less willing to settle for anything less than real.

This story should have never been.
But it was.
And now, it’s hers to end... in truth, not in silence.