Who Knows You?

"venus in the 12th house"
painting by Botero

I feel like I struck a nerve yesterday in the post I wrote… and the comment I made about women without children.

Now the confrontation I had yesterday, the opposition I had, was with a Saturn-figure: a traditional, conservative man, a father, a father-figure, a good father. With a big heart; I don’t doubt that.

But he literally shook his head at me.

(And then they wonder why I don’t want to visit? Duh.)

Don’t laugh, I said, when I was answering his questions that he kept asking. “Chas v’Shalom” he said. God forbid. He was completely sincere. He wasn’t laughing. He just didn’t get it. Didn’t get ME. And he really has no point of reference for someone like me. At all. And couldn’t imagine a context outside his own.

As I wrote yesterday: he couldn’t see my changes, my hard work. all the trials and tests and triumphs, real triumphs. He knows nothing about my life, about what’s important to me, who I am. Just that I, well, have a cat. And that I don’t have children. And I’m not married. Oy vey. May as well be dead.

And yet so much has happened. It just hasn’t involved a baby head popping out of my vagina.

Side issue, but since I’m here already πŸ™‚ I’m gonna mention it. I think what I do as an astrologer is slide between the cracks and crevices of a chart. I get inside it. There’s no fucking way he can see that. It’s invisble. And yet THAT is my birth process, every time I look at a chart.

Venus in Leo in the 12th House: what I do, what I love, is hidden but I’m proud.

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