Confessions of a libra

Self-Love | Credit: Here

23.01.25

It’s almost 6 weeks since my arrival in Zimbabwe and I have just completed a loop of naming bureaucratic harm that I suffered. That is no small feat and my tears are welling at the thought. This is something I began documenting a timeline of in November, after a legal win due to another instance of systematic harm. I am crying for the me that had tensed for months on end. I was in the middle of harm coming from many sides last year, something that likely infiltrated my writing. If you were there you might have felt the tension, the despair and the righteous fury.

I am not the first in my line to take on bureaucracies toe to toe. Though I believe I am the first to take on multiple systems of harm head-on, with a level of record-keeping that scares the ‘plausible deniability’ that many systems rely on, to avoid accountability. I did this not only for myself but for any other person who looks like me. To make people double-check their own biases, and come correct. Instead of banking on their projections to protect them from due process.

I feel like I have shed my own body weight in harm and it deserves a record. One I can look back upon. One I can show my future children. It’s a shame that people take advantage when they think they can. When they think you won’t say anything. When they think your life doesn’t matter as much as the next person. My entire adult life in Australia I was experiencing systemic harm. What I have done now is not the first time I have had to report companies to regulatory bodies. But the level of documentation and record-keeping I have now completed is evidence of the level of self-protection and self-advocacy I have had to do, because I have not been protected or defended enough.

I scare people with my long memory. With my inability to let things go. Yet if people knew what I have been through between my family and corporate injustice, it would make a lot more sense. The closing of this chapter by placing a complaint to two regulatory bodies in Victoria, Australia came in the same week I decided to take a stand against my family. Something that was long-overdue. I famously call myself the black sheep of a black sheep. My mother was a pattern disruptor in her generation. She was born with codes that brought more spine and autonomy into the family. Which made her an extremely controversial figure. I find it humorous that I was raised by my maternal side and they couldn’t deny me if they tried.

I am the spitting image of my mother. A nod to the spiritual claim my maternal side have on me. Like my Grandfather June, I have self-represented myself in a legal context and won. Like my mother have I asserted boundaries with my family, kicking my family out of my space and refusing to bend over backwards when I clearly stated my boundaries. I know I talk about astrology every other second, but it was literally encoded in my birthchart. One of my favourite things is reading people’s birthcharts – the 4th house specifically – to determine someone’s karmic story within their family line.

Without getting too technical, I have a Neptune-Uranus conjunction in my 4th house. I was literally encoded to see the illusions within my family and disrupt the familial trajectory. To dream more idealistically, yet responsibly and methodically with Neptune in Capricorn. It was always going to be work, hard-earned and legacy-coded. The Uranus brings a futuristic perspective to my ideals of family and legacy. In my case it means I am choosing to love my family from afar. In my 5.5 weeks since my return I have been the family oracle. Naming people’s patterns, giving advice to the family matriarch and refusing to interact with those that have lost the privilege.

In a strange way, I always knew this day would come. I am surprised it didn’t happen any earlier. I spent my childhood either running away or daydreaming about being rescued from the dynamics that constricted me. Now I feel I can walk away in power. If I died tomorrow, I would have no regrets because I have loved my family with honesty and transparency. That was my gift to them. A gift that can feel like a burden to those used to their self-placating narratives. It’s not that I don’t need anyone anymore. It’s more so that I no longer have room to juggle my self-worth and other people’s egos.

I must take a stand that allows me to be treated better by those in my life. I cannot do that while juggling the ecosystem that hurt me first. Hurt me hardest and hurt me the longest. My Saturn Return has ritualistically removed people from my life. I am in sacred isolation. Sacred hermitude if you will. Which hopefully means a new frequency of soul-family and found family. I didn’t ex-communicate everyone. I have kept the line open to a very small range of family members. Mostly the younger ones and one elder who has always treated me well since I was a child.

When you’re the black sheep, you also become the scapegoat for other people’s projections. The narratives my family have about me have nothing to do with my real personality or circumstances. They strung their narratives as a bonding exercise. Many of my family members were mainly that in name and in the responsibility I felt toward them. Not in practice. Many of my family members I couldn’t rely on in a genuine crisis. Yet they would be okay to ask me for emotional and financial assistance.

I’m ready to sow new seeds. To put my faith in my intuition and spirituality as has always been my backbone. To let the consequences of my mistreatment ring like a toll of judgement. I rebuke mistreating others because there are no witnesses. I rebuke excusing harm because it doesn’t affect me directly. These are things I have experienced time and time again.

Let the record show that you will never get away with mistreating me unscathed. Not if I have anything to do with it. For now I lovingly and consistently show up for myself creatively. I want to add value to the collective conscious with my channelling. I want to sew generational seeds this year that I will only harvest years from now. And my deepest hope, is that I end this year less lonely than I started it. I am only human. May all who are fighting their private battles, find strength in my prose. Ameen.