“There’s always enough there to make you think maybe I’m just crazy.”
If you’ve ever felt something heavy lingering in the air, or like maybe your bad luck is more than just coincidence, you’re not alone—and you might need to meet Dottie.
In this week’s Creepalachia podcast episode, I sat down with Dottie the Witch, a Charleston-based spiritual practitioner who’s built her life and business around helping others understand what’s unseen. She’s not your crystal-ball stereotype—she’s a candid, kind-hearted, slightly sarcastic woman who helps people shake off spiritual trauma, break curses, and connect with the people they’ve lost.
But like many Appalachian stories, hers begins in quiet, strange corners of childhood. At just three years old, Dottie saw ghostly, static-filled figures watching over her bed. Growing up in Hurricane, West Virginia, the veil between the worlds was always thin, even if no one talked about it out loud—until Dottie demanded they did. Her mom, a gifted “door opener” who helped lost souls cross over, began to share her own spiritual practices, laying the foundation for Dottie’s path.
“I’m not only willing to admit I see spirits—I’m willing to interact with them.”
The Magic in the Messy Middle
Dottie doesn’t claim perfection, and that might be what makes her so real. Whether she’s helping someone shake off a generational curse or just trying to feel human in a faith-shaking world, she’s honest about the highs and lows of spiritual life.
She explains how curses, hexes, and jinxes aren’t just fantasy—they’re energetic imbalances that can manifest in deep emotional and physical distress. But the way to break them isn’t just about lighting a candle and saying a few words. “Working through these things means doing real life stuff, too,” she says. “It’s spiritual cleansing in tandem with therapy, grief work, or cutting off toxic relationships.”
Of course, not every spell has gone according to plan. In a moment of emotional overload and “some high school-level BS,” Dottie admits to once trying to bind someone who was trash-talking her business. The result? Her own energy backfired, landing her in the ER with what she feared was a GI bleed but turned out to be a wake-up call.
“I wanted them to taste s* every time they talked s*. Instead, I ended up tasting it myself.”
Lesson learned. Magic isn’t something to be used recklessly. It’s power that reflects back what you carry into it.
“I’m your weirdo for the day—let’s work through this.”
Dottie is also a proud witch—a title she knows still rattles people in conservative pockets of Appalachia. But she’s not here to scare anyone. Instead, she wants to educate, demystify, and remind people that witches have always been here. They were the healers before antibiotics. The midwives before hospitals. The rootworkers who whispered scripture to stop bleeding in the hills.
“Witch was never a name people picked for themselves—it was what others called the women who could help.”
Dottie also practices tarot (and yes, she’ll totally geek out about the history of Italian playing cards if you let her), reads palms, uses crystal balls and runes, and works from a deeply pagan belief system that’s rooted in connection, compassion, and responsibility.
Despite the protests, the judgment, and the stereotypes, she still shows up—for her clients, for herself, and for the community that is slowly but surely learning that “witch” doesn’t have to be a dirty word.
If anything, in a world that feels more chaotic than ever, people like Dottie may be just what we need: someone grounded in magic, mystery, and a little bit of mischief.
