Libra New Moon: Me too. You?
What's normally unspeakable has finally found a voice, and a platform.
A quick heads-up. The blog this week contains a graphic depiction of sexual assault + references to child sexual abuse.
The rise of outspoken female voices, following the exposure of Hollywood’s dark underbelly, has unleashed the often-hidden, yet virtually universal experiences of sexual violence, harassment and abuse of women - and sometimes, men.
But why now, in this pleasant Libra Moon, are we dealing with all this "unpleasant" stuff?
The New Moon is in Libra, the sign of balance, harmony, peace and justice. At its best, Libra is the peacemaker, the diplomat, the graceful partner who knows how to smooth over troubles and find a common ground.
Relationships are everything to the Scales. It doesn't want to risk them, so it overlooks uncomfortable situations that might cause conflict between people.
At its worst, Libra is the superficial people-pleaser, the fence-sitting air-kisser, the one who stays quiet, rather than rocking the boat, keeping up appearances of beauty, elegance and charm.
Libra's shadow goes along to get along, without ever taking sides or making a decision.
Libra, despite being the ruler of justice, can also be the enabler of injustice, preferring to pretend everything’s a-ok rather than charge headfirst into battle like its opposite, Aries.
This New Moon, with Uranus in Aries exactly opposite, is waging war on structures that limit freedom, and erupting earthquakes under fake balances of power, the pretence of justice, and the ways we compromise ourselves in relationships rather than asserting our own rights.
Everything put up with, and shut up about, is fair game with Uranus.
Uranus in Aries doesn’t care about keeping the peace. It will wage an unholy war to liberate the soul from its false prison.
So don’t expect this month to be a harmonious debutante ball.
Sometimes, the path to peace is to send a lighting bolt down from the heavens and overthrow those who play God with other people’s minds, bodies, lives, and psyches.
Otherwise, life becomes an empty awards ceremony, and all that glitters won’t take away the stain that’s been left on the soul.
So let’s put on notice all the ways we pretend to get along, every shred of integrity we sacrifice for harmony, all the times we ignore our own conscience in order to not rock the boat, in case it upsets someone more powerful, or damages our carefully held-balance and everything nice in our world.
Where do we play the fake, kissing and smiling outside, when inside we seethe to the core?
And what's all the pretence worth, if the true cost is our own sovereign power, and the power of others in our world?
Jupiter & Mercury in Scorpio: Giving voice to the unspeakable
Power is the real theme behind sexual violence. And nobody knows power - or the violent use of power - better than Scorpio.
Jupiter, the god of expansion and adventure, makes whatever he touches BIGGER. He's just left graceful Libra and entered Scorpio’s dark dungeon. After 13 months of noble adventures in love, harmony and fairness, he’s begun the dangerous journey into the underworld.
Collectively, and personally, we’re on a quest to reclaim the hidden power buried deep beneath the surface, meeting the demons we’ve cast out, and revealing the secrets we’ve locked away.
Jupiter rules publishing and beliefs, and as the Harvey Weinsten sex abuse scandal broke, Jupiter was entering Scorpio’s first degree. The news blew up everywhere. And of course, so did the spin-doctoring, trying to reframe a predator as a sex "addict," "recovering" in rehab - instead of a cell block.
As we’re only in the first few degree of Scorpio, with 13 potent months to go, this is indeed the tip of the iceberg.
Joined by the esoteric agent Vulcan, which breaks the bonds of form and matter to let the soul come forth, the sudden movement toward truth-telling, no matter how taboo, has potential to create permanent change as it keeps growing in power.
Because, as occult ruler Scorpio knows, the real power is in keeping things hidden.
As the news blew up, Mercury (communication, the media) also entered Scorpio, and with Jupiter, made sure no voice was left unheard, no secret unspoken, and no corner of social media untouched by messages of rape, violation, molestation, harassment and assault.
These stories are everywhere. And now they're in the open. At last.
Compounding the omnipresent trauma is the ruthless silencing of women who speak up, seek justice, or simply try to preserve their own safety after they’ve been harmed, abused and attacked.
Good girls are expected to get over it, to keep the peace, to play nice and get along.
I think of my mother, molested by a priest as a child, and nobody believing her afterwards. It still haunts her, 60 years later.
Or my littlest sister, abused by another child, who threatened to kill our brother if she told. As a teen, she started cutting herself.
My other sister. My cousin. Every single woman I know, in some way, some form. I hope, for my daughter, this is not her truth.
After the first trauma has rearranged the nervous system, shut down the power centres, drawn energy from the psyche, and split off a fragment of the soul, the greatest theft is the theft of the voice, and the power to speak of what has been done.
We need to be heard.
We need to express.
We need to be understood.
When frightening things come out of our mouths, because they have been done to us, we want other people to listen and believe us.
Not gaslight, blame and shame us.
Not criticise us for seeking attention.
No threaten and turn away from us.
It’s easy to trivialise the importance of a simple hashtag in our five-second attention span society.
Every movement begins with ordinary people adding their voice, their energy, and their commitment to something which has been unsaid for too long.
#MeToo opened the floodgates of social "permission," supporting, rather than shaming, women who dare to share their long-hidden truth.
If words can hurt, so they can heal.
That’s Mercury in Scorpio’s medicine.
I, unlike most women, wasn't silenced when it happened to me.
As a stranger ripped off my underwear and rammed his fingers inside me, I screamed.
As he cornered me in a dead end alleyway, I screamed.
As he tried to pin my arms, I screamed.
As the elastic of my favourite knickers sliced my vagina, and the lace fabric fell to the gutter in two torn pieces, I screamed.
I screamed "Help!" at first. Then I remembered, in an eerie time-warp of quiet, logical calm as time slowed down, while I feared for my life, that it’s better to yell "Fire!"
I'd read that somewhere: people are less likely to assist with calls for "Help!" in case it turns nasty for them.
Fire is harder to ignore.
I used my voice. My arms. My feet. My fingernails. Found strength I didn’t know existed.
Made a silent vow to not be raped by this stranger in a concrete garbage dump.
But he had me beat. Pushed me to the ground. Finally, someone else arrived.
Later, they photographed the scrapes on my knees. The cut on my vagina. Bruises on my arms and scratches on my elbows.
The only distinguishing feature I could remember of him was his black-eyed, meth-dilated eyes.
I never saw him again.
* * *
I'd walked to work, and turned into the Melbourne CBD alleyway like usual, waiting for the cook I was doing the breakfast shift with to arrive with the kitchen door keys.
It was late January, and bright daylight, though the party crowd were still streaming out of nearby nightclubs.
Earlier, as I crossed the Yarra on foot, I’d felt uneasy as I watched the hot air balloons rise above the botanic gardens.
Tendrils of fear gripped me, but there was nothing to be afraid of.
Not yet. I brushed it off.
Your Libra Zone
This New Moon falls in my 8th house, conjunct Pluto; a double dose of dark, secretive, powerful, sexual, traumatic, death and rebirth Scorpionic medicine to bring what needs to be felt to the surface.
In the eighth house, we realise that it’s what’s unseen that’s most dangerous.
What’s unhealed, most painful. That what’s still lurking, pushed down out of sight, gains the most resources. It’s where we have to face all the ways we give our power away, and take the gnarly journey of reclaiming it, so we can safely let others in again.
Where does this New Moon fall for you?
Click here to find the area of your life that Libra is activating now, and use this time to break through the fears, limits and structures keeping you out of balance in this part of your life.
As I told my story at a police press conference three days later, anonymously, as “Angela,” 22, I was heard.
I was interviewed, and broadcast, by every newspaper, TV outlet, and top-rating talkback radio host.
There was no “alleged” in the headlines. No manufactured ambiguity around blame or collusion to suggest I’d been somehow “asking for it” on page nine of the Herald Sun.
I hadn’t been drinking, didn’t know the guy, couldn’t be shamed for my outfit, and certainly had nothing to gain.
I’d done all the things a good girl "should," and still been attacked by a sex predator.
Therefore, in the eyes of the police, the public, the courts, and the media, I was a “legitimate" victim.
Unlike God knows how many other woman who were abused, assaulted, raped or violated that Saturday, I was encouraged to speak up.
So it didn't happen again.
On the outside, I was articulate. Honest. “Brave.”
Inside, I was numb. Still fighting for my life. Terrified of being identified. Terrified of walking down the street in a skirt. Something I still occasionally feel, eleven years later.
Everywhere was an awkward void, a silence that couldn’t be mended, a chasm that would not be felt. No one, least of all me, seemed to know what to do.
So I locked it away.
Did what good girls do.
Survived, and got on with my life.
Interviewing for a new job the next week, I told the man hiring me that I was leaving my current work because I needed a new challenge.
How could I find the real words?
And how would he respond?
So I put on my makeup, did my hair, smiled my best smile, and got on with the show.
I put my name and face to this story today.
No more hiding in shame. Its time to bring our stories into the open, where they belong.
Not just another nameless, faceless woman raped, attacked, molested or abused.
Not just another anonymous statistic.
Maybe when we can easily speak of sexual violence, we’ll no longer have to share so many traumatic stories about it.
Until then, we need to keep telling them, as long as they cry to be told.
With Venus in Libra ruling this New Moon, the feminine power to relate, to love, and to restore balance is in our hands.
Because Libra isn't concerned with just "getting along," but with seeing both sides, and creating real peace and harmony - for everyone. Not just those who stack the deck.
We can make art with our pain, create beauty with our truth, and bring justice where it needs to be done.
Even if its uncomfortable. Especially if its uncomfortable.
With Jupiter in Scorpio, burying the truth is no longer the way to get along.
This is an invitation to embody, express and release the stories hidden in our hearts.
Relating for real, in this movement, towards a peace that's not just lip-service, but which causes a tidal wave of change, for our daughters, and theirs to come.
And as we remember our stories, we remember that grace, love, and fierce un-fuck-with-ability is the core of who we are.
No matter what we feel. No matter who we are, or what we have been through.
Where power has been lost, it can be reclaimed.
The first step is to speak up.
I'm Eloise, and I help conscious entrepreneurs create authentic, kick-ass brands with astrology. If you're sick of feeling invisible, I'll help you remember who you are, why you're here, what that special thing is you do, and how to articulate it to the world.
"It's given me permission to be the real me, not what's expected of me by the masses," Tarnya.