Magic doesn’t always arrive with a flash and fanfare. Sometimes it emerges quietly from our darkest moments, when we’re hiding from the world and even from ourselves.

During the silence of pandemic lockdown, when the world outside my window fell eerily still, I found myself drawn to create something that could bridge the isolation. That’s when Marisol—a curvilicious Latina bruja reluctant to leave her cottage after quarantine—first whispered her story to me. What began as simple Instagram story posts soon became something deeper, a mirror reflecting my own fears about reconnection and being truly seen.

Through writing Marisol’s journey, I discovered parts of myself I had been avoiding: feelings of inadequacy, of not being Dominican enough, brave enough, or simply good enough. The magic I wove into her story wasn’t about wands or spells, but something ancestral and gut-deep, magic that pulses through her blood whether she wants it or not. Much like creativity pulsed through me during those difficult days, demanding expression even when I felt most ordinary.

The Ordinary Bruja emerged not from careful plotting but from raw emotion, from a tired woman sitting at her kitchen table whispering stories into the digital void, hoping someone might hear and respond. And respond they did—readers connected with Marisol’s reluctance to emerge from her pandemic cocoon, her fear of being seen for who she truly is. Because aren’t we all, in some way, hiding parts of ourselves from the world?

What version of yourself did you meet during isolation? What magic might you be hiding? Join me next Wednesday for “The Post That Broke Me” as I continue unpacking how this soft story took a hard turn after one Instagram comment about Dominican identity that awakened the bruja’s anger. Your own magic is waiting—sometimes we just need someone else’s story to help us find it.