Italian Folk Magic: An Introduction to Old Country Ways Hidden in Everyday Life
- Anya I
- 1 day ago
- 8 min read
Italian Folk Magic: An Introduction to Old Country Ways Hidden in Everyday Life
Italian folk magic isn’t something most people set out to practice. It’s something you grow up inside of without even realizing it. As an italian american woman myself, I didn't realize a lot of what my family was practicing was even considered folk magic.
For generations, Italian folk magic existed quietly in kitchens, churches, gardens, and family gatherings without ever being called witchcraft. In fact, the word strega, witch, is actually considered an insult despite that these folk practices lived in habits, prayers, superstitions, food, gestures, and stories passed down through families, especially through women. Most people practiced it without naming it, and many still do today.
As an Italian American woman, my relationship with Italian folk magic has felt less like discovering something new and more like understanding something familiar to my soul. So many of the beliefs, rituals, and instincts I carry didn’t come from books or italian american stregheria, they came from culture, family, and memory. They came from culture, family, and memory and I'd like to share that part of my story with you today.
Today's post is a good introduction of italian folk magic, it's history, and some personal anecdotes which will hopefully lead to more posts and italian strega content in the future! Enjoy.
Table of Contents:
The History and Roots of Italian Folk Magic and Family Tradition
Let me give you a quick history of: Italian folk magic: It has deep roots in Italy, shaped by pre-Christian paganism, agricultural cycles, earth-based spirituality, and regional customs that varied widely across the country. Many of the customs exist in traditions that have lasted hundred, if not thousands of years and vary within each province of italy. But here's the thing, long before the word witch was used the way we understand it today, people relied on traditions, customs, and superstitions, to explain the world, protect their families, and stay connected to Spirit.
Unlike Northern Europe, where witchcraft history is often framed around witch trials and the fear of evil witches, Italian witchcraft developed in a quieter, more domestic way. It was less about spectacle and more about survival. Folk magic existed to ensure food, fertility, healing, protection, and balance within the households and communities like any other religious practice.
When Christianity spread, these older beliefs didn’t disappear. They blended. Pagan rituals were absorbed into Christian religion. Goddesses were replaced with saints. Ancient beliefs were reframed as devotion, superstition, or tradition. This blending is one of the reasons Italian folk magic endured while other traditions were erased.
Italian Witchcraft, the Strega, and Women’s Knowledge
To understand Italian witchcraft, you have to understand the archetype of la strega, the witch.
Historically, the strega was not a cartoon villain or a cult figure. She was a woman with knowledge, a wise woman who had knowledge of herbs, healing traditions, food, childbirth, death, the moon, and the rhythms of the earth. This knowledge gave women power within their families and communities, even when they held little formal authority.
Over time, as Christianity reshaped cultural beliefs, that knowledge became threatening. The word strega shifted from meaning a wise woman to implying danger or evil. The idea of evil witches helped undermine women’s spiritual authority and justified a fear of female empowerment.
But Italian witchcraft was never about dark spells or control. It was practical, relational, and rooted in deep care. Most women practicing these traditions would never have called themselves witches even though they were practicing witchcraft in its most grounded form. In fact, to call someone a strega is actually considered insulting in ways, although I firmly enjoy the term.
Folk Magic, Superstition, and the Evil Eye
If there's one thing I can say, italians are one of the cultures who really works off vibes. Folk magic in Italian culture is deeply connected to superstition, not as ignorance, but as lived understanding. Malocchio, the italian evil eye, is essentially a curse/hex based on envy, jealousy, and resentment. It doesn't require a require ingredients or a full moon, just bad vibes For example, if someone is gives you a compliment but their energy is off and it doesn't feel authentic, they may have given you malocchio. It's that simple.
Protection against the evil eye was common, especially among Italian immigrants who carried these beliefs into new countries. Charms like il corno (the devils horn) and the mano cornuto (think the rock on symbol) weren’t aesthetic choices — they were protective tools rooted in ancient Mediterranean symbolism tied to vitality, fertility, and protection.
Growing up with my relatives, directly from italy, it was common to see these little charms dangling i the rear view mirror of my grandparents cars. Modern italians may find this corny, but where my family was from it was very real and were practiced because generations trusted them.
Italian witchy story time: I’m going to share a funny story about this past Christmas to epitomize just one example of malocchio.
My grandmother was adorned with gifts, as she should be. I don’t know what was in the air, but I received the worst gifts of my life this year — with little to no thought. God, I’m even embarrassed to admit this because I sound so spoiled. Yes, I know that’s not what Natale, Christmas, is about, but it was just so bad, and I could not let it go.
I share this because after we unwrapped the gifts together (and I’m trying to be excited and grateful despite the absolute terribleness of the gifts I received), my grandma goes to me,“Oh I wish we took our time with the presents this year, it was too rushed.”
To which I reply to her, with what I thought was a genuine and kind smile,“I saw you unwrap yours!”
And my grandma looks at me and goes,“Ohhh… I know what you mean by that.”
Implying that I was being gelosa — jealous. Which essentially implied that I was giving her an extremely mild form of malocchio.
My grandmother isn’t a strega, but in many ways she is.
It was a good learning lesson for me, that I still need to work on my energy and I'm grateful for her.
Italian Kitchen Witchery
Italian folk magic never separated healing into physical and spiritual categories — because life never separated them. Healing traditions were holistic by default, woven together through herbs, food, prayer, ritual, and intuition, all working in quiet harmony.
La cucina, the kitchen, was the unofficial altar of the italian matriarch.
Sunday dinner wasn’t just a meal; it was a ritual. The whole family gathered around the table, stories were shared, laughter and tension moved freely, and everyone was seen. This was energetic medicine. Connection was part of the cure. Italian magick has always been rooted in simplicity, love, and famiglia not elaborate spells, but presence and being surrounded by loving energy.
Food itself was healing. Brodo, often called Italian penicillin, was the answer to everything from colds to heartbreak. Slowly simmered, nourishing, and made with attention, it carried more than nutrients. It carried love, time, and devotion. To be fed was to be cared for and so long as you are cared for you have everything you need in life.
Herbs were used for teas, poultices, and protection. Oil was warmed in the hands and applied gently, often alongside a whispered prayer or blessing, and a loving touch. Nothing was rushed. Nothing was sterile. Healing happened through touch, intention, and familiarity.
These practices were almost always held by women. Grandmothers, mothers, aunts — the matriarchy of the family — did not teach through instruction. They taught through repetition. You watched. You helped. You absorbed. Knowledge lived in the hands and the body long before it ever lived in words.
This is the heart of Italian folk magic: care as power, nourishment as ritual, and love as medicine.
Italian Folk Magic and the Matriarchy
You’ve probably heard the line, “The man is the head of the family, but the woman is the neck. The neck controls the head. (Who can name that reference?)” That pretty much sums it up. Italian women have always been a force to be reckoned with as we are passionate, intense, intuitive, and deeply rooted in family. We create an immense amount of magick, and we do it without asking for permission or softening ourselves to be palatable.
This power doesn’t come from titles or hierarchy. It comes from experience. From living. From holding families together through grief, illness, migration, scarcity, celebration, and survival. Italian women learned when to act, what to use, how to protect, and how to heal — not from books, but from watching their mothers and grandmothers do it before them.
The Divine Feminine in Italian folk magic isn’t abstract or distant. She is embodied. She’s in the woman stirring the pot, blessing the food, reading the room, and knowing when something feels off. Her power flows through care, memory, intuition, and connection — and yes, through an unwavering refusal to be messed with.
This is why Italian folk magic centers around food, fertility, healing, and family continuity. These weren’t side concerns or “women’s work.” They were sacred responsibilities. The matriarchy didn’t need to announce itself — it was already running everything that mattered.
La Befana, the Epiphany, and Italian Folklore
La Befana is one of the clearest examples of Italian folk magic surviving through adaptation.
She is celebrated on January 6th, the Feast of the Epiphany, marking the visit of the Magi. But her roots are far older, likely tracing back to pre-Christian agricultural goddesses tied to harvest cycles, death, and renewal.
In Italian folklore, La Befana flies on a broom, visits children, and leaves gifts — or coal. Before Santa Claus became dominant, La Befana was the gift-bringer in Italian culture. She represented wisdom, accountability, and the turning of the year.
My first experience with La Befana was when I was about eight years old, visiting my family in Italy. There was a community Epiphany gathering where all the kids received gifts — and I received coal. I cried so hard. At the time it felt devastating. Now, I understand it differently. La Befana teaches balance. She holds generosity and consequence together.
Christianity didn’t erase her. It reframed her.
The Italian Witch Goddess Aradia
Aradia di Toscano is closely linked to La Vecchia Religione, the “old religion,” which blends pre-Christian pagan traditions with later Italian witchcraft. While her historical origins remain debated, particularly in relation to author Raven Grimassi’s interpretations, Aradia’s symbolism remains powerful. The Gospel of Aradia, written by Charles Leland, positions her as a teacher of witchcraft, healing, and rebellion, embodying wisdom and power.
For me, Aradia is more than a historical figure. She represents the Italianella — the warm, welcoming woman who gathers people, nurtures them, and keeps the community together. She’s a moon goddess, tied to lunar and the full moon cycles, and rooted in collective care rather than hierarchical power. Her energy is felt not in isolation, but in connection — she reminds us that Italian folk magic is a communal practice.
Through Aradia, we see the Divine Feminine of Italian folk traditions: a nurturing force that embodies the cycles of life, death, and renewal. She connects us to the earth, to each other, and to our shared wisdom passed through generations. Her presence isn’t about dominating power but about the collective strength of community and care.
Interested in learning: modern italian witch goddess
Italian Folk Magic Practiced Today
Italian folk magic is still practiced today, even though only recently has it been named. It lives in prayer, superstition, food, ritual, and family tradition, and for many Italian American witches, it now overlaps with modern witchcraft. This is only a glimpse of this beautiful practice: I haven’t even begun to explore the saints, the regional traditions, or the full depth of what our families carried.
Where are my italian witches at? Drop a comment and let me know. Don't forget to subscribe to my free newsletter and follow me on youtube & tik tok as I plan to expand on this content in the future.
Italian folk magic isn’t something most people set out to practice. It’s something you grow up inside of without even realizing it.
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