Going back to yourselfafter a very wtf March with all the astrological transits

March was a wtf month. All the eclipses and other astrological transits made me feel like I was run over by a truck and then the remains thrown into a sea full of waves. It's a fitting description since I’m a Pisces Moon and Aquarius Rising. There was so much shadow work, back and forth of thinking, facing some really dark inner truths—and saying I’m physically and emotionally exhausted is an understatement.

So much is grumbling in my life, like I’m leaving layers of skin behind. Which, I guess, makes sense since, from a numerology standpoint, it’s a year 9, and in Chinese astrology, it’s the year of the snake (and hopefully the year Taylor Swift gives us Reputation TV, which I’ve been clowning for—but one can hope).

What I feel, looking back at these past few months, is that I’ve been shedding all my comforts and performative coping mechanisms I built to survive these 36 years. I finally came to the conclusion that as hard as it is to shed what I’ve known—while putting on a front and running from myself as much as possible to calm the nervous systems of others (because that’s what you learn to do when you grow up in a narcissistic household)—I understood that between being my authentic self (and maybe pissing off some people and being alone) or people-pleasing and covering every part of my personality in order to “fit in” (which I never really did), one choice left me alone but at peace, and the other made me feel lonely even when surrounded by people—people I exhausted myself trying to explain who I was to.

So... after taking a big gulp of air and diving deep, deep, deeeep into the ocean of my darkness, I understood that as painful as it is to look at our pain and so-called “bad” behaviors, I found a part of me that has been so hungry to be seen. So hungry to be embraced in the warmest hug. So in need of me to say:

“It’s okay.”
It’s okay not to be perfect.
It’s okay not to know all the answers.
It’s okay not to fit in.
It’s okay to have all of these “flaws” that society said were shameful.

I cried, I laughed, I cried again. And I wrapped my arms around myself for the first time, feeling the way I usually feel when I comfort a friend or someone in pain. It was the first time I truly felt the deepest love for myself—not because I was perfect, not because I was in control, or being disciplined, or doing anything I thought I had to do in order to feel worthy or prove I deserved love. No.
(And yes, I’m still crying my eyes out as I write this.)

I felt, for the first time, unconditional love for myself because I allowed myself to see me. To truly see me. All of me—the way I wished my parents and family had. The way I searched my whole life to be seen… everywhere but inside. And f*ck—it was painful, it was raw, but it was also beautiful.

Because our society conditions us to be so deterministic about things. It makes us dualistic and restricts us to these tired narratives of good vs bad—as if life and the universe weren’t a balance of both, as if both weren’t needed. But the strongest trees have the deepest roots in the shadow of the earth. We can’t be whole without having both.

So this bullshit of only feeling worthy for the parts of us deemed “good”? It sounds to me like a really stupid but effective way to keep us limited—when in reality, we are limitless. It’s all about how we choose to perceive things and how much we let fear confine us into a tiny, claustrophobic box.

Freedom to be requires courage to live without defined limits—nothing to hold onto, no set lines of being. It has no borders.

So what this new discovery gave me is the knowing that it has always been okay for me to paint outside the lines. To allow myself to be—however I feel at peace in any given moment—even when that includes the painful moments.

As I write this, I’m not saying I’ve arrived at a final destination and that from now on, everything will be peachy smooth. What I’m saying is: I’m embracing the waves, the calm seas, the storms, and all the states of existence that come my way—because the tension of trying to control myself and mold into a specific box is too damn exhausting. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t go back to that.

So here I am, peeling the layers of who I truly am—when I accept my inner current instead of moving based on what I think the outside world wants me to be. It might make me alone for now, but for the first time in my life, I don’t mind. I’m not scared—because I have me. And no matter what is taken from my life, I will still have me. And I want to give all the attention and love to this relationship—because it finally makes me feel at home.

Have a great weekend! 💜

Francisca