Priestess is a Verb 🗝

(My ritual key and High Priestess pendant)

At age 13, my biggest goals were to write “the next great lesbian novel” and figure out how to become a Wiccan High Priestess.

… I was a weird kid. 

Figuring out that I’m called to sacred service was never the problem for me. I knew. I spent years second-guessing myself and wondering if I was cut out for it, but I knew. My big problem was figuring out what priestesses actually *do.*

The role of Pagan leadership / clergy in modern times is hard to pin down. After three years of exploration, I still have more questions than answers. I’ve written about it before here and here. 

At the Lenaia, my mentor Suz said something that I couldn’t get out of my head. Priestessing, as in, “to do the work of a priestess.” That night, all the pieces clicked into place and I finally understood. 

Priestess is a verb. 

The dictionary defines priesthood as a noun, a special identity. But to ancient polytheists, priesthood was an action. Yes, it was a state of being, but that was less important. Priest/esses were ritual agents; they performed sacred acts for their Gods and Goddesses.

Today, priest/esses do The Work. And they do it in community with others. 

This explains a lot of the confusion that I felt as a preteen. During lockdown, I would beg my Gods to explain this crazy, confusing fascination of mine, but every time I got the same response. “You WILL be a priestess one day. But not yet.”

It was only in 2022, when the world fully opened back up, that I began to feel that I was embarking on the path toward priesthood.

 I started this blog. 

I presented my first workshop on the Theoi. 

I talked with teens interested in Paganism and introduced them to CUUPS. 

I performed my first Hellenic Polytheist rituals with other Pagans.

I volunteered with my CUUPS group. 

More than anything, I’ve been public about who I am and what I do. I’ve found that when you speak openly about these things (queerness, sexuality, religion), the seekers appear. And I love it. Because this is the Work that makes me feel alive. 

At 16, I definitely don’t have the cojones to call myself a fully-fledged priestess. Korē (or, Maiden) priestess seems more fitting. I’m not filling the role in any official capacity- certainly I’m not “certified”- but I’m learning how to do the Work and I’m carrying it out in my everyday life. 

(As a side note, this is a good way to determine the difference between priest/esses and Pagan clergy. Are they legally ordained? Do they get paid? HAHAHAH just kidding. None of us get paid). 

One of the most important things I’ve realized is that Priestess Work is done in community with others. You can perform all the solitary devotion that you want, but if you’re serious about public priesthood, the Gods will eventually ask you to connect with other Pagans. That’s why I’m so grateful for my year of self-discovery during the pandemic- my “Chrysalis Time,” as Persephone calls it. I’m glad that I had the opportunity to learn and grow in my personal practice before I stepped out into the wider world and began facilitating sacred space with others. 

Because if you can survive being a 13 year old Pagan on Catholic Zoom school, you can survive anything. 

It also helped me to realize that ancient priest/esses were often a similar age and gender to the god they served. Korē priestesses were very much thing in antiquity. And I mean, I can’t have been the first preteen girl who’s ever gotten hit on the head by a terrifying ancient deity. In another lifetime, me and my friends were probably dancing on the rooftops for Adonis. 

Girls like me have been around forever. 

Yeah, I think we’ve been “priestessing” for a looooooooong time.  

In the Gods,

Rose Eleusis 🌹