Venus is the star of the celestial show today, ladies and gentlemen.
She is in an exact trine with Uranus in Taurus (which is ruled by Venus), opposing Neptune in Pisces, and Squaring Mars in Gemini. So for me, this means my 12th House, 10th House, and 1st House respectively are being activated with this energy.
Since Venus is in my 12th House, where Uranus is currently, this trine is highlighting a focus on my personal love stories and desires. This house is associated with confinement, imprisonment, mental health, the psychological realm, the spiritual realm, hidden enemies, and bad spirit. Since it is squaring Venus, I am looking back on my time in the underworld with a critical eye. I have natal Mars in Cancer, which is the sign of its fall. This means that Mars in Cancer doesn’t perform like a soldier that is on a quest, but rather one that walks with caution behind a shield. The sign of Cancer is nostalgic, and for me this current Mars position (in Gemini) seems to be bringing up some troubling memories about the personality I used to embody. I’m remembering what it was like to look the devil in the eyes. A myriad of emotions boil in my chest and I can access the mindset I was trapped in. How could I have been so deluded?
Yesterday, I was putting on makeup from my concealer palette. I do this without thinking about it anymore when I have to record a video. It brightens up my under-eye circles when I use the pastel purple. I originally bought this concealer palette to cover my black eye. I was going to throw it away, but my friend told me that her sister used that same palette for the purple. She didn’t know the reason for why I had bought it. It has pink, green, yellow, purple, brown, and beige color. I needed it for the green to cover my bruise because it was supposed to neutralize the red and blue colors. The purple actually does make me look brighter and more awake.
I remember how ashamed I was about having that black eye. I didn’t go many places that week, in fact, I stayed locked in my boyfriend’s apartment because he had roommates. I couldn’t let them see me with a black eye either. I didn’t go to work. Instead, I told them I had come down with a cold or the flu. I did have to go pick up a rental car because this blow to my face occurred the same week that I had scheduled for my car to be repaired after a wreck I was involved in. (Interesting how the symbolism manifests in the physical realm.) I wore sunglasses over the concealer I applied because I had a busted vessel in my eye that drew too much attention to the caked on make-up. When I returned to work, I told them I’d coughed too hard and caused the hemorrhage.
I always had this idea that being in a physically abusive relationship made me an idiot. So I hid it. I didn’t want people to think I was a moron even though that was something I was called very often. In order to preserve the little bit of dignity I had, it was necessary to keep this a secret. He knew too much about me. He’d seen my bare body. He had countless ways of manipulating and black mailing me. In my mind, he had power over me because I was judging myself the same way he told me I should. I projected his nit-picking and I allowed him to have temper tantrums (of which I was the punching bag or… choking bag).
When he would hurt me I would want to be consoled, and at the time, he was the only person I had. So the same person that was inflicting fear and pain on me was the one that I was asking for acceptance from. I wanted approval. I wanted forgiveness for things I didn’t even do. I wanted to impress the subconscious and I was attempting to do so by getting someone to validate me. I needed a second opinion. Am I lovable? Am I valuable? Am I redeemable?
I have to admit that I was afraid of having my own personality at that stage of life. I didn’t think I was good enough to be an individual. My personal interactions with people were not like that of my boyfriend. I tended to be closed off and guarded. I may have gotten a little wild occasionally, but I was generally just doing everything I could to be at my boyfriend’s side. He was a very magnetic personality and would often times leave the bar having made new friends. His long flowing, hair and perfectly chiseled facial features were impossible to miss. He had a rare ability to say some of the most provocative things and still managed to be endearing. He received so much praise and even behind his back people would tell me how likable he was. This information combined with the gaslighting and insults I received from him behind closed doors seemed to confirm what he was saying must be true. Now I can look back and see that he was able to be so vibrant and alluring because I was feeding his ego. I worshipped him and this inflated his already enormous ego. I confirmed his belief that he was special.
Desire blinds us. It takes hold of the very mechanisms that are meant to keep us alive. The body wants what feels good. If it discovers a way to increase endorphins, it will continue to repeat the behavior. Even if that means getting hurt to get to that fix. It is our responsibility to understand that we have to maintain some control over the guidance of these desires. We can spend time with ourselves to understand the underlying motives that cause us to take action or to remain in the circumstances that aren’t serving our highest good. But we can’t cover them up and pretend like we don’t have them. We aren’t fooling anyone we are only making a fool of ourselves.
Originally written in Collective Journaling at The Stoa