About
Wytchtr.ee is a link-in-bio platform built by and for the pagan, witchy, and occult community — a single, beautiful home for the links, shops, readings, and rituals you want to share.
Why this exists
The big link-in-bio tools are built for influencers and brands, wrapped in corporate gloss and ranked by engagement. The craft deserves better. We wanted somewhere that feels like it was made by the community it serves — mystical, intentional, and welcoming — where discovery happens through kinship and circles rather than an algorithm.
Wytchtr.ee is built by practitioners, for practitioners. Every design choice, from the themes to the way profiles connect, comes from lived experience within the pagan and witchy community — not from a focus group or a growth metric. Your profile is yours. We don’t rank it, throttle it, or bury it behind an engagement score. Your links, your order, your page.
What makes this place different is the circles — themed communities you can join and browse, where visitors wander naturally between kindred profiles the way you’d wander between stalls at a market or tents at a festival. No algorithm deciding who gets seen. Just practitioners finding each other.
The witch tree
Our logo is the silhouette of a corkscrew hazel (Corylus avellana ‘Contorta’), sometimes called the witch’s hazel for its wildly twisting, contorted branches. We chose it deliberately.
In Celtic tradition the hazel is sacred — a tree of wisdom and inspiration. The old stories tell of nine hazels ringing a sacred well, dropping their nuts into the water to be eaten by the salmon of knowledge; to taste the hazel was to taste wisdom itself.
Hazel is a tree of liminal spaces — hedgerows and well-edges, the thresholds between the cultivated and the wild, between this world and the Otherworld. Its wood was cut for divining and dowsing rods, used to seek water, truth, and hidden things. A hazel staff marked a seeker; a hazel wand, a worker of magic.
That is the spirit we wanted at the root of this place: a tree that stands at the threshold and connects worlds — and whose corkscrew branches, like the paths we each wander, never grow in a straight line.
