Background & credentials
How the Queen found me
As a young woman facing systemic sexism, I aspired to be the "queen of the universe" — wielding whatever power I could muster, especially when confronting injustice.
When I took on leadership roles, colleagues started calling me the queen — mostly as a joke. My dear friend Eddie, who has since passed, once gifted me a boldly illustrated Queen of the Universe mini-poster. That was over thirty years ago. It's still pinned to my wall today, as a reminder and a blessing.
Mostly I took it as a running joke — but underneath it all, I'd always seen the queen archetype as something worth taking seriously: a symbol of feminine power, wisdom, bravery, and self-determination that felt both aspirational and genuinely necessary.
In my fifties, I spent time twice a year in Vermont as a faculty member at a small low-residency liberal arts college. There I fell in love with a woman-owned spot called Nutty Steph's — specifically their Thursday night ritual: bacon and chocolate night. Wine, men in kilts playing flutes, and the kind of laughter that fills a small room until it overflows. It felt like magic. It felt like home, even when I was far from mine.
I didn't eat bacon — still don't — but that was never the point. Dark chocolate, dry red wine, and the company of interesting strangers: that was the point. On occasion, a young man would come from the city to read tarot. By day, a hatter. By night, the most gifted reader I'd ever encountered.
One Thursday, I asked him about a relationship I already knew wasn't going to survive. He answered through the cards with striking accuracy. I repeated the question, hoping he'd soften the reading. He didn't. My fate was named through the Queen of Wands.
I asked him what she meant. He explained as though it were obvious: she never lets herself be deterred or compromised. She travels to her chosen destination — alone if she has to — and finds her way through every barrier to get there. She leads with courage, uses imagination and humility, and carries a fierceness that never loses its integrity. She is self-determined, self-actualized, fueled by compassion and goodness.
She has been my compass ever since. Now in my seventh decade — grown into cronehood — I'm formalizing that calling as Queen of Wands, LLC: with a price tag, yes, but also a sliding scale, a love of barter, and a firm belief that no one who genuinely seeks guidance should be turned away.