I Can Get Petty Too...

At first, I wasn’t going to waste my energy responding to the article, despite how blatantly libelous it was. But as I look closer, the math simply isn’t mathing. And since they decided to try and assassinate my character in the court of public opinion, let me return the favor, with interest.

I met Metztli Wolf (their current alias) in 2020, around the time I launched Tu Tía Bruja. I was researching witches who lived at the intersection of spiritual practice and social justice, and I’ll admit it, initially I was impressed. On a podcast episode with Troy Taylor, I even mentioned how shocked I was by how many occult jobs existed, something that genuinely fascinated me the deeper I got into the craft.

Back then, their community presented itself as a haven, a place where questions could be asked freely, mutual aid was given generously, and people truly supported each other. I met some genuinely kind, brilliant folks there. One of those people was Ryan. That same group also helped me fund my abortion, and for that, I felt a deep sense of gratitude, even, in hindsight, an emotional debt. But that goodwill was quickly weaponized.

As time went on, Metztli’s health began to decline. Suddenly, we were constantly fundraising. I personally organized at least two events for them. There was always some dire emergency: the electricity was about to be cut off, the wolf-dogs needed kibble, rent was overdue. Crisis after crisis, month after month.

Then came the paywall. Suddenly, only those who paid could belong in what was originally touted as an inclusive space. And sure, it was their group, their rules. But after I was pushed out and lied about, I started talking to others. We began comparing stories. Patterns emerged. Disturbing ones.

Metztli worked overtime to convince me that Ryan, someone I saw as kind, supportive, and fiercely protective of the group, was toxic.

That revelation didn’t sit right with me, but they were my friend and I believed them. I hadn't talked to Ryan since 2022, because I was made to feel that she was a person who only had relationships based on their value. But now, with everything coming to light, I’m realizing how much manipulation was at play.

M tried to paint me as the villain. But I’ve got the receipts, and now, I’m not staying quiet.

They claimed they removed Ryan from their group, as the screenshots here depict.

You can clearly see them misgendering Ryan (She/They), which, in hindsight, is not just grossly disrespectful but wildly hypocritical. This is someone who constantly preaches that misgendering is a form of violence, yet has no problem doing it themselves when it suits their agenda. It’s almost like those values only apply when they’re the victim, not when they’re the one causing harm.

What’s truly laughable, if it weren’t so manipulative, is that M’s story completely falls apart under the slightest scrutiny. They claimed they removed Ryan, but the screenshot tells a different story: Ryan left on her own, respecting M’s demand that only paying members be allowed in the community. So not only did M lie, they lied to paint themselves as the victim, while erasing the fact that Ryan was actually trying to honor their boundaries. It’s a perfect snapshot of how M rewrites reality to serve themself.

It’s telling, and frankly exhausting, that in every single falling out M has had, they’re always the wounded party. Always the victim. Never the common denominator. They’ve cycled through countless friendships and alliances, yet somehow, the blame never lands at their feet. And still, out of all the people they’ve clashed with, I’m the only one they chose to name, first and last.

Why? Because in their delusional narrative, they’re the Selena, and I’m the Yolanda. Them, the tragic martyr and I the villain. But let’s be clear, that script doesn’t hold up. The switch flipped a long time ago.

Since meeting M, I’ve gone on to read tarot at Ritualcravt, Sincerely, the Craft, and Sideshow Gallery, and I’ve taught classes at two of those respected venues. My work speaks for itself. Meanwhile, M seems more focused on controlling a storyline than living in truth. That’s the real difference between us.

They also outright lied and claimed the episode “Look at That Occult Résumé” was some kind of jab at them. Funny how that accusation only surfaced after they decided to smear me, because at the time, they never said a word. Not once did they express discomfort, not privately, not publicly. Had they done so, I would’ve apologized and changed the title, simple. But instead, they chose to sit in silence, stew in resentment, and weaponize it later. That alone makes it clear: they’ve been harboring bitterness toward me since the very beginning.

And honestly, that tracks. Whenever M has a problem with someone, they don’t confront it like an adult; they either send someone else to do their dirty work (as this screenshot clearly shows), or they ghost the person entirely. It’s textbook manipulation: control the narrative, dodge accountability, and play the victim when the house of cards collapses.

Over a year ago, we had it out, really sat down and hashed through everything, this is where the now-infamous “cult leader” message was sent.

And like a fool, I apologized. Why? Because they manipulated me into believing that they were the one giving more in our relationship, that I was taking up space in their life and constantly taking. But the truth? I sent money. I used my platform, my reputation, and my connections, sometimes even torching bridges I had built, to support them.

They convinced me their suffering somehow eclipsed everything I did, and I was ungrateful and inconsiderate. That’s their whole game: twist the narrative until they’re the selfless martyr and everyone else is disposable.

And let me be clear, I’m no saint. I can be reactive. I’ve been unkind. I’ve been cruel. I've been guilty of microaggressions. But at least I own it. They, on the other hand, weaponize weakness, call it righteousness, and expect applause for the damage they leave behind.

They had the nerve to call me a mean girl, when the reality is, this entire situation reads like some unhinged, witchy Regina George fever dream. They’ve cast themselves as the tragic, misunderstood queen bee while painting me as the jealous villain who dared to challenge their little empire of smoke and mirrors. Let’s be honest: all I actually said was that if the accountant had questions about the Kickstarter money, especially considering there was an active medical GoFundMe,

then it was reasonable to ask why they were dipping into the tarot deck funds. That’s called transparency. But apparently, just questioning the money trail was enough to trigger a full-blown smear campaign, over a year later, when it was convenient for them.

Because that’s the truth: they didn’t want accountability. They wanted obedience. And the moment I stopped playing along, or validated questions, they needed someone to crucify, so they twisted the story, rallied their followers, and tried to destroy my name to cover their tracks.

Meanwhile, I’ve been out here building something real, launching Café Ghostie in one of the toughest climates for brick-and-mortar businesses, staying open while others are shutting their doors. I’ve been working, growing, and actually creating, and no longer have the time for the community like I once did. And what have they been doing? Spinning the same tired victim narrative, hoping no one sees the cracks in their carefully filtered fantasy.

The last conversation we ever had, and I mean ever, was me telling them I landed an interview

with The Real Antonios, the band of El Badiablo, one of the cohosts of Leyendas Legendarias, arguably one of the biggest Mexican podcasts out there. And let’s be honest, they couldn’t stand it. You could feel the jealousy through the screen. That kind of success, that kind of access from my work? It doesn’t sit well with someone who thrives on control, pity, and performance.

And let’s not forget, this whole conversation started because I was simply checking in on an order a friend put in for their “roller money oil”, an idea I literally gave them, to sell their oils at a more affordable rate. I was still supporting them, still showing up, even after everything. But none of that ever mattered. Not my effort, not my time, not my ideas, not the bridges I burned to help uplift them, because at the end of the day, the only thing that matters to them is what they can extract from you.

And honestly? If their own millionaire mother doesn’t want to help them, that should’ve been the red flag right there. But I ignored it, like a fool. I believed the sob stories, the endless crises, and now I see it for what it was, manipulation dressed up as mysticism.

I have no doubt the screenshots will start dropping, cherry-picked, twisted, taken out of context, spun into some theatrical mess to paint me as the villain. That’s their signature move: mix a little truth with a lot of fiction and sell it like gospel. And sure, there will be grains of truth in there, that’s what makes their manipulation so effective. But unlike them, I’m not afraid of the full picture, because I have the receipts too. Real ones. Unedited.

And let’s talk about the contradictions for a second. For someone who’s supposedly desperate for cash, they’re somehow moving into a property four times the size of where they were, their words, not mine. Funny how the math only stops making sense when someone starts asking questions.

Despite everything they put me through, the gaslighting, the public smearing, the emotional manipulation, I still have empathy for them. I really do. I tried to understand. Living next to a literal hate group will mess with your head, sure. Maybe it made them paranoid. Maybe it made them think everyone was the enemy. But I wasn’t. I never was. I was a friend. I was supporting and admiring from afar, because I know how hard it is to build something from the ground up. And I got burned for it.

So here it is: I’m sharing my side. Not for pity, not for drama, for truth.

And to make a long-overdue apology to Ryan and Ilona. I let Metztli poison my perception of both of you. They lied and said we were all conspiring behind their back when at the time, we weren’t. But after being slandered and discarded like trash, we finally exchanged notes, and the pattern was undeniable. Ilona, I’m sorry for believing the lie that you purposely fed the dogs the wrong food to harm them. And thank you for having the grace to apologize and accept mine in return.

Ryan, I’m sorry I ever allowed myself to believe that your friendship was just transactional. You both deserved better.

And to Metztli, I’m sorry we ever crossed paths. I’m sorry I helped you. I regret it. I want it on public record: if anything happens to my loved ones back in the States, you had access to my home address. Let the record show that too. And even after all of this, you're still making money off my name, off the fact that I once had the audacity to call you a “cult leader.”

Honestly, best of luck, Metztli. I hope you never stop clinging to your delusions, because reality clearly isn’t your strong suit. Oh, and those bags? They look like they were slapped together on Canva during a nervous breakdown. And not in a charming, DIY way.