Spirit Spousery: Not a Fad. Not a Dream. Not Always Fun.

My marriage to a spirit who presents himself as Loki… is active. But in the beginning? Yes, it was a trick after a fashion. I was mad at first, yes. But it had (spirit) witnesses. We even did the marriage dance and traded wine, and yeah… he watched my goblet tilt with a predatory and villainous eye to end all villainous eyes.

But.

I was then captured into a web of future horrors, and when you’re doing that, the ego machine is fed. That ego is how they keep you. You get tangled in the dream and your real talents fall to the wayside. Then they hobble you. It’s all about managing the livestock and nothing about building you up to the stars, no matter what they say.

At first, they tried to tell me I was the queen of heaven. I rejected it, so they used other methods. My marriage to Loki was the weakest link. It got attacked, not just by those that would bind me. Because Loki is so misunderstood, too many humans felt like they needed to weigh in on the matter. Meanwhile I was too amazed at the event to shut the fuck up and keep it to myself. According to them, I needed to dump him because he was evil or I was unworthy. Others who consider themselves espoused didn’t want to share, and way too many took my experience — which was a waking event that happened so clearly it was like watching television now with technicolor — and belittled it. (While pushing forward other lived experiences as canon because they were written in an old book.)

So I got defensive about the matter. It was partly a defense mechanism: I was under siege after all. It was partly the hormones I was being flooded with by the creatures that were feeding from my emotional roller-coaster. It was partly misplaced pride. When one of the spirits “love-bombed” me (Which is a technique spirits use to flood you with … stuff…. I can only call it stuff… so that you literally react like the movies: I love you!), I had no way out. Jealousy came into play. Which put me right where the monsters wanted me.

I didn’t think I owned Loki, nor did I think he should not deal with others out there. Because I knew those sorts of feelings were wrong, I spent hours and even days pondering what was going on, trying to reconcile, to not be a bitch. That only worked a little. Between all the forces pressing against me, I found myself pushed into defending my territory. And that meant getting arrogant when I should never have. That meant diminishing others’ experience, just because for them the bond was perceived as a touch in the mind and a candle flame while I was given every girl’s wish and dream. It was a dream that turned into a nightmare, sure, but still a dream.

Most people don’t truly understand spirit spousery in the West. They have this strange idea that comes from I don’t know where, and it has many different origins that all got mushed together through a process some people call “Sheilaism”¹. Spirit spousery is done for fun and profit. It can be ended with a simple word over a candle flame. It’s not taken seriously. This is the wrong approach.

The reality of spirit spousery is a worldwide phenomenon, by the way. It’s been talked about in Mongolia, Peru, and even with the Lebanese.² It’s shamanistic, and it’s not the same as a nun becoming the Bride of Christ.³ You’re not marrying a god in the true sense of it. Your spirit spouse is a living entity who has their own reasons to marry you. It’s not a lighthearted matter. It’s a serious commitment, even more serious than marriage between two humans. It’s shamanistic. It’s sacred.

So let me tell you something everyone misses: Loki is shamanistic. The historians are finally catching on. Archaeologists are catching on.⁴ Loki always knew. And in the old ways, spirit spousery isn’t a contract for favors, shadow work, and giggling at a Marvel poster. It’s deeper. It’s older. It’s binding. And it can hurt.

It’s a very. Very. Very. VERY serious matter. Let me try to break it down for you.

1. The spirit chooses you… for life: This is the very bottom rock foundation of the entire affair. The spirit values something about you. It can be loyalty, your inner light, your talents… even your demand to be your own person. In some traditions, it’s explained that the spirit has fallen in love with the beauty of your soul. (They don’t visually see us how you think.) In other circumstances, there are darker reasons.
   • While you can approach a spirit to wed, a true spirit marriage often happens because the spirit chose you. It can be a lifelong commitment. It can even be over several lives. It’s not a temporary arrangement.
2. A spirit spouse can put literal meaning into “tying the knot”: For me, and certainly for others out there, my wedding meant Loki and I re-entwined our spirit lines to create a “bridal knot”. I’ve heard spirits call that “being entangled.” You “cleave” and are “cleaved”. While this can be bad with some predators, with a wedding this is incredibly intimate.
   • It can be amazing. And it can suck, especially if you feel your freedom has been stolen or if the bond was forced. A wild mustang doesn’t tame easily because it values the plain; your heart values its freedom in the same way.
   • They say breaking up is hard to do, but breaking a spirit marriage can be harder than going through a nasty divorce because of this. Recently in my research I’ve come across exorcists discussing the increase in people who have to get help⁵–many of them because they’d made a “pact” with a “demon” and some because they no longer want their spirit spouse now that they got the benefits. When that bond is broken, it can genuinely hurt the spirit and some of them get a little angry. You thought a human woman scorned was a bad idea? A spirit scorned has the ability to do things a court of law can’t protect you against. You can’t just walk away from it without consequence for both sides.
     • The most tragic thing I saw in this was a man undergoing an exorcism while his spouse cried in grief, “But I love him!” She hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d married her for benefits. She’d provided. He now wanted a human wife, and she had to go. My heart broke for her.
   • Some spirit partners will fuck with your head. In my own experience with Loki, it’s because I’m not moving fast enough and training has to happen one way or the other and whether I like it or not. But sometimes you end up with a spouse whose intentions aren’t quite so pure. Just because they’re spirits doesn’t mean they won’t be a bad partner. Your best bet when spirit-spoused is to set aside the Judeo-like idea that spirits are to be worshiped. They’re people in the end. We have abusive husbands and wives in the human world. They have the same danger.
   • Especially where abuse is involved, if the spirit spouse disappears it can throw you into an entire world of suck. I’m saying this from experience. I was love-bombed by another spirit, and that flooded me with dopamines and created an addiction. Then the spirit disappeared, and I went crazy calling for him. This isn’t just emotional; it’s an energetic withdrawal that can leave you feeling empty, isolated, and disoriented. That spirit’s point was to make me dependent and, well, gaslight, train, and reshape me into some idea of his. It was trauma bonding at its finest while being at its worst.⁶
3. Waking Reality, Not Just Dreams: Although after a while I started to see one of my spirits mostly in dreams, this isn’t always the case. For me, being pushed entirely into the dream state was a red flag that I was being fettered. Some people operate magically while dreaming naturally, sure. But true spirit-spousery means interacting while you’re awake, too.
   • In my experience, the lovebomber could move objects. You’d hear him talk. I’m pretty sure schizophrenia can’t throw cigarettes at you from across the room, or manipulate a stranger into chasing you across a parking lot to compliment your hair right after you asked the spirit if he liked it.
   • Loki still interacts with me when I drum. He stops by the house briefly and leaves. He’s busy, but you know he’s there in the waking world. Just the other day (fucking gods), he threw catnip at me.
4. Jealousy and Taboos: The spirit partner can be fiercely jealous and controlling. The djinn in particular are famous for it.⁷ Sometimes it comes across as attempts to limit your freedoms, isolating you from other connections and controlling your activities.
   • Also, the spouse will usually impose taboos or rules. In my case, I gotta stay sober, at least when it comes to marijuana. Loki explained that being high made me, “look like a clown to the spirits.” Not all spirit spouses are considerate enough to explain themselves.
5. Benefits and Power Exchange: “I accept your proposal, and I will lend you my power,” a spirit said to me when I’d accidentally proposed to it. I said accidentally, dammit. That’s not the point. The point is what the spirit was willing to give me in exchange for my love: his support. He speaks very archaically, does that particular cuddlefox.
   • But this is the part everyone grabs for while ignoring the rest of the situation I’ve described. You can get significant benefits. The spirit buoys you up, teaches, often protects, and can be a guide. You provide devotion, your energy, and act as a physical anchor for them in this layer of the realm.
     • Most importantly, the spirit spouse is your lodestone and anchor in return. In many spiritual paths where having a spirit spouse isn’t just a status symbol but is a requirement, you walk alone. I’m not kidding when I say this, children. You can end up very motherfucking alone. It’s hard to relate to people because they don’t get it. You end up with one foot in both sides of the door; you’re a psychopomp, a creature that’s here but not here. People don’t get you. They sometimes try to hurt you. Your spirit spouse? You’re fucking married, dammit, and this means you’re in this together. Their most important job is to keep you from going crazy from loneliness, and yes to meet physical needs in some cases. You’re human. Your body doesn’t fucking care that you’re doing cool things. It has a healthy base line to keep.
       • I often wonder if the sacrifice you make to become what you are isn’t made by them on the other side.

With people pushing me into making decisions they felt were best (often without knowing me) or actually trying to break my bridal knot themselves, my back felt to the wall. The lovebombing was what did me in, though. I was literally a day away from divorcing Loki when it happened. Then I examined what it meant to have been wed to the most famous trickster of our age, and I admit I often made a mockery of kids out there who have no idea what they’re doing. They light a candle, they hide their altar under their bed, they make an arrangement with a spirit, and they “call it love”.

I should not have done that. It isn’t that I was wrong to look at those situations and recognize them for what they are. Yes, it was born as a defense mechanism against the sheer pain and even danger I was in. Yes, it was fueled by negative spirits and entities who did not belong in my space. Yes, I was under a very strong spell. Yes, it’s up to me to grow the fuck up and realize where I’d gone wrong.

But owning my own bullshit doesn’t change the mechanics of the Orlæg, the force all around us. Others call it Tao. Some call it Ba. When you weave the wyrd, you’re weaving it. When you and a spirit entangle, that is also a weaving. So I still stand by the fact that my wedding was an actual wedding. I will still make a comment that what I have endured was not putting a hidden altar in my room with a candle. In fact, I will continue to say that because the distinction must be made and taught.

Despite my natural sarcasm and humor, I realize elevating myself with it is imbalanced as all fuck out. It’s how I chose to elevate my own situation above them. That was my arrogance. Being an ass about it kept me from looking at myself, and thus my situation, to be able to tell you guys why that candle and altar was not a wedding. Yes, you contacted a spirit. Yes, you two made an agreement towards something. You offered devotion, the spirit offered shadow work or something equally useful. But you did not exchange goblets or the equivalent, have a true wedding ceremony, or form a bridal knot. You made something else. Do you know what that is, kids? It’s a pact. It’s a working arrangement, something more in tune with hiring a freelance contractor.

Calling a basic pact a “marriage” doesn’t just dilute the word; it’s dangerous. It encourages people to be careless with the rest of their lives. It glamorizes what is otherwise a pretty tough situation to navigate. It treats the spirits like they’re vending machines to be thrown away when all the good things have been gotten. And if you walk into the Wild Wyrd looking for a casual boyfriend and accidentally trigger a real cleaving, you are going to get torn apart by the reality of what you signed up for. There’s a reason why Loki asked me, “Do you understand what this means?” the first time we wove together. He didn’t ask if I knew. He asked if I understood. (Spoiler: I did not, and I paid for it. Seriously, I thought I was daydreaming and had no idea I was interacting with that slippery sucker. I was that new to the game.)

Know what you’re doing. Know what you’re asking for. And for the love of the gods, know the difference between a contract and a cleaving.

And also know the dangers. Aside from getting into a marriage you realize you don’t want, now that you’re no longer 15 and have grown into a mature 17, 20, or even 35… there’s the imposters that float around waiting for you to make promises you don’t intend to keep. They certainly don’t.

This is identity theft on a cosmic scale. Because a spirit marriage operates on deep, subtle energetic signatures, it paints a massive bullseye on your back for fakers. I’m talking about parasites, handlers, and opportunistic wyrms who will literally put on your spouse’s face and walk right through your front door. Things I talk about on this blog again and again. These are the fakers that tell you they’re Loki, Apollo, your long-lost love from another dimension… waiting for you to buy it, counting on those people who sincerely believe the gods can’t be impersonate to push it on you, and riding your energy like a donkey when the deed is done.

I lived this. That spirit who put me through the trauma bond grinder let me believe he was Loki. He fooled the absolute shit out of me. How did he do it? He waited until I got drunk and let me make assumptions based on the lore that Loki was a shapeshifter. Discernment was thrown right out the window before I had a chance to bat an eye. These things are smart. They will mimic things enough, just enough. Why? Because they want to isolate you, feed on your output, and steer you right into a cage while you think you’re just being a devoted partner.

Then there’s the fact that you’ve made a serious commitment. Now, there are ways to divorce your spouse but the amount of people who know how to do that properly are even less than the amount of people who understand the concept of having a spirit spouse in the first place. The only reason–and I mean the only reason I’m still married to Loki– is that I came across a blog telling the world that once you were married to him, because of his godly godness and what he supposedly represents, you’re stuck forever. Lucky for that Loki, I guess, because this means I chaffed under the knot until he wooed me completely over. My own arrogance, as I mentioned, was already brewing from the imposter’s love-bombing and the “stuck forever” lie, not from Loki’s true nature.

But it was his patience, strength, and wit that held me steady. When it comes to the spirit spouse expectations, he has never faltered there. Not even when he’s wanted to tear his hair out at me. And here’s where my own arrogance comes back into the story, because it wasn’t only fear or misinformation that kept me there. It was also me, and how that arrogance shaped my approach to this very marriage.

Despite being someone who ponders, I ignored my feeling that something wasn’t right and elevated myself too far to look at what was wrong. Instead, I went on a quest to find things that made it right. Once I had accepted the premise that I was trapped forever, I thought I could make it make sense. I admit I was flattered and a little delighted when a spirit called me, “Loki’s Wife” in the dream as if to reinforce the illusion. But overall I was overwhelmed.

I looked for help, but when I talked about the situation nothing made sense. So I stayed and, instead, told myself this is because I was The One. It wasn’t that I was trapped. It’s that I was special. Trust me, the things around me were all for it. The games they played… but anyway… I was special… just… not the right kind. And once the love-bombing happened, I no longer wanted out. I wanted him… but it wasn’t Loki. I bowed to him… but it wasn’t Loki. I called him, “Master.” And I was encouraged to be arrogant about it, because he had chosen me. He stayed with me. I was his. Nothing could tear us apart, he told me. I was his troth.

That is the part that irritates me most now. I let someone else’s proclamation about what Loki supposedly was define the limits of my own agency. I let their arrogance in their belief fuel my own. And then when I was about to turn heel and come to my senses, I was captured in the most foul of foul plays.

I should have known better, and I did at first. I would never have told someone else, “Well, you made a vow once, so now you’re stuck forever no matter what.” I would never have told someone else that their consent had an expiration date. I would never have told someone else that a powerful being’s nature mattered more than their own right to say yes, no, stay, leave, renegotiate, or demand better.

That’s arrogance too, by the way. It’s almost as bad as someone telling you to stop screaming in agony while your intestines literally burst inside because you might frighten someone. (Yes, that has happened to me.) It’s almost as bad as being told losing your children isn’t as bad as giving them away. (Also happened.) Or the arrogance of telling someone what words they should or should not say. (In this day and age? I’m sure that’s happened to you.)

I’ve talked about this before, but it warrants a little context here. The imposter didn’t just love-bomb me; spirits around me fed me massive, ego-inflating bullshit. They lead me to believe I was the mother of the gods. No kidding. And because I’m the type to research, I dug into it, found the obscure lore that actually backed it up, and the trap snapped shut even tighter. It was fucked.

My house had become a war zone. So there I was, under constant attack from covens, exhausted, keeping this grand secret to myself, and looking at other people thinking, “You’re all idiots.” That was the arrogance. The self-conflation became my armor.

But when a Goetic friend and his crew finally broke the spells those covens had over me, I got a breather. The air cleared. The lies were still sitting right there, but it was like I could finally think. I had a choice. I could have clung to the narrative. I could have kept telling myself how special I was to protect my pride. Instead, I got curious. I became more interested in what was actually going on than in how special the story made me feel.

It was like a certain little trickster voice was whispering to me, too. His echo had been silent for too long, and the truth is I’d noticed and missed him. But I’d chalked it all up to the spirits, the love-bomber’s attentions… it wasn’t that he’d been drowned out, I told myself. It’s that the story had changed. I’d grown. I was more in my power. Insert arrogance here. But now I had a voice whispering to me: do you remember how you loved the work of Dr. Karla Turner? Do you remember the patterns she and Eve Lorgen had tracked? Isn’t it weird how everything sounds familiar? Thus when I stepped outside the ego to listen to that little voice and ask my friend, “Have you heard of the alien love bite?” the world broke wide open.

You could feel things break too, like a bubble popping. I call it my Rumpelstiltskin moment. The arrogance was the glue holding the illusion together, and the second I traded being special for cold curiosity, the spell broke.

My arrogance held me together, but it was also holding me down. I probably needed it at first – trust me, being love-bombed ain’t no joke. Fortunately hormones fade, and the lovebomber got bored and weaned himself away out over time. Or perhaps he thought his job was done and could watch things move forward. Who knows with assholes like that. But I won’t deny there have been many times I’ve tried to woo him back into my embrace. He ain’t coming back.

I had to be willing to get off the pedestal I’d been tricked into building and believing. The moment I put my feet onto solid ground, the lies didn’t have a leg to stand on.

And yet I sit here aware that for all I didn’t have a choice, my arrogance was still mine. Sure I’d been abused and pushed into it. Sure I was in a bad situation. But also, sure. I looked down on people who have no idea what spirit spousing actually is. I scoffed at those who are harming themselves and adding to the confusion so that others can be hurt. That’s on me.

So again, I will still snarkily say that my wedding to Loki is a real event. Not some movie poster pact candle ritual misunderstood as a wedding. It’s the real thing, and it comes with a lot of baggage, weight, lore, and … stuff. But you do you, just do it informed. Do you understand what you’re doing means? Make that pact. Work with the great master of shadow work… but don’t fool yourself about what you’re doing. Don’t be foolish. Stay friends. The romance will kill everything.

Not every spirit encounter is a cosmic lesson, an act of destiny (TM), or some other fantastic story tale element. They don’t have to be for us to learn how to be better people. I look at how I sneered at those who don’t know what they’re getting into while being eaten alive by the very thing I didn’t know I had gotten into, and I realize that my own arrogance is the mechanism for a humbling. It’s not a huge humbling, mind you. I mean, ha ha, I’m still wed to the trickster and yes I am so so so aware he’s going to get me for my smugness later.

And then I’ll hit him with a broom. It’s a love language.

1. “Sheilaism” is a term coined by sociologists Robert N. Bellah et al. in their 1985 book Habits of the Heart. ↩︎
2. With estimates of approximately 60 million practitioners worldwide. [Source: Academia.edu – When God Had Sex; Patheos – Exploring The Ancient Practice Of Spirit Marriage; Wikipedia – Spirit spouse; Encyclopedia MDPI – Spirit Spouse]. ↩︎
3. While both involve a spiritual union, their natures and contexts are distinct. [Source: Wikipedia – Spirit spouse; Encyclopedia MDPI – Spirit Spouse; Google Books – Spirit Marriage; Patheos – Exploring The Ancient Practice Of Spirit Marriage; Bernard Saladin d’Anglure et Françoise Morin – Mariage mystique et pouvoir chamanique]. ↩︎
4. Research into shamanism, particularly seiðr (an Old Norse term for a type of sorcery or shamanic practice), in pre-Christian Scandinavia has been ongoing for over a century by historians, philologists, and anthropologists. Archaeologists have more recently contributed to this discussion, with interpretations of material culture. While much of this work often focuses on Odin, Loki appears in texts like Lokasenna and Völuspá, which contain oblique references to seiðr. Some scholarship also explores Loki’s potential origins from a vätte (domestic spirit) and overlaps with figures like the Ash Lad, suggesting connections to older, folk-magic elements. Direct archaeological evidence specifically for Loki is scarce, with interpretations often relying on contextual guesswork [Source: “The Archaeology of Seiðr” by Neil Price; “Loki – World History Encyclopedia”; “Loki, the Vätte, and the Ash Lad” by Eldar Heide] ↩︎
5.  The International Association of Exorcists (AIE) has warned Pope Leo XIV about a rise in cases linked to “occultism, esotericism, and Satanism,” which they believe opens “doors and windows to the extraordinary action of the devil.”  ↩︎
6. Source: Empathi – What Is Love Bombing?, What Is Love Addiction?; Annie Wright – Love Bombing: The Neurobiology of the Narcissist’s Trap; Just Stop Dating – Lovebombing; Divine Alchemist High Priestess – How Trauma Bonds Masquerade as Spiritual Connections; Julia Storm – What a Honeypot Trap Is] ↩︎
7. Encyclopaedia Iranica – Genie; Guernica Magazine – The Jealous Wife; Morocco World News – The Female Jinni Pursuer (Ttab’a/ l-qraina) in Moroccan Mythology; The Vengeful Djinn: Unveiling the Hidden Agenda of Genies; Encyclopedia.com – Jinn; Wikipedia – Jinn; Hellslore – Si’la: The Seductive Jinn Who Lures Travelers To Their Doom] ↩︎