Eclipse's Reprise
hey... hey... how y'all doing?
I’ve spent the last year and a half slowly rebuilding my sense of self.
For years, I kept myself buried under feelings of inadequacy, constantly feeling secondary and burdensome no matter what I was told or what reality actually reflected. Every cell in my body was tuned to invisible gazes, flinching at the brush of anything heavier than a feather. No amount of reassurance was ever enough, but eventually, I came to terms with the fact that nothing would change unless I made it.
I embarked on what I can only call a speed run of every healing exercise I could find online or recollected from my days of college therapy – journaling, “showing up,” letting myself be seen, etc. At the time, it felt like enough. People always say healing isn’t neat or linear, and while I knew it to be a fact, I had somehow hoped I could bypass it. I thought, surely it only applies to those battling serious issues like grief or major psychological rupture, so my “silly little anxieties” should be cleared up.
When things inevitably, because that is the cycle of healing, went sideways and twenty steps back, I was left feeling like a failure who’d never grown at all.
When I began writing on Substack, I made sure to post am Instagram carousel every time I published. If I included a picture of myself, it always went at the very end, as if I were attempting to meet the bare minimum requirements of visibility. Once, I went back and removed a photo entirely.
I still don’t post frequently, but I am proud to say my last three posts all feature my face and my joy without having to pad it or justify my existence. I’m really proud of myself!
Lately, social media has seen lots of conversation surrounding visibility wounds. Coming off the end of the 18-month Virgo-Pisces eclipse cycle and entering a new astrological year headed by an Aries stellium (self-identity & how you’re perceived) and now edging into Taurus season (self-worth & satiety), it’s prevalence makes sense.
That wound is truly no joke.
My first real foray into visibility, was Substack. I’ve had social media for almost as long as it’s existed, but I rarely posted. I deleted multiple Tumblrs as well as the Instagram I had during my undergrad without every really using them; I mostly browsed and share things privately with close friends. I even deleted my first blog - a Squarespace production complete with a personalized logo, all constructed by my sister.
Writing for Hot Literati helped because I had external accountability - I couldn't not show up. However, the combination of that consistent (ish) output and starting a new academic program led to burnout like I’ve never experienced. I had to retreat and recalibrate so I could process everything properly.
Thankfully, 18 months later (it’s really been that long since I wrote anything!) and a pending graduation seem to have reinvigorated me.
Y’all know if there’s anything I love talking about, an eclipse is high up the list. That 18-month Virgo-Pisces eclipse cycle, beginning in September 2024, moved through themes of service, health, routine, isolation, spirituality, and self-undoing - all themes ruled by the 6th and 12th houses. At its core, it called for surrender as a pathway to healing.
I tried to heal in motion, but each new attempt led only to obstacle after obstacle, leaving me in a sorrier state than I’d started. For the sake of my health, I had to let go, and in doing so, I began to trust my body and its intuition.
Not to brag, but I be knowing things. My struggle has always been trusting that knowing. I have had a sick, sick habit of always triple guessing myself and seeking external validation even when my instincts were clear. My body would signal, “danger, you’re not safe!” and even my oracle cards would chime in. I would still override it, often blaming myself instead.
In retrospect, it makes full sense that I needed to hibernate; the hermit (Virgo) and depths of solitude (Pisces) were directing the scene. It wasn’t until I felt utterly cornered and alone that something, seemingly insignificant, significantly shifted. Like, I needed to feel trapped to understand how free I truly am.
I’ve been in London for the past few months, and I got to spend most of it with my best friend. I’m only here for a few more weeks, but now I have (most) of the pressures of academia in my rear view.
Admittedly, my time here has mostly consisted of catching the SWR to Feltham, stressing over my capstone, and getting drunk when my health permitted (and a few times when it didn’t). In these coming days, I want to engage my senses more: explore as many witchy shops as I can find, try new cafes, eat my fill of steak and ale pudding, and go to all the museums suggested by my friend. If anyone has any other recommendations, I’d love to add them to my list!
There’s no real conclusion here, just an update and a hope for clearer (or at least more navigable) skies. I have many things planned that I can’t wait to share, the first of which will be posted at the turn of the season.
Lately, I feel hopeful in a way that makes me bit teary. Hope has always been something I carried alongside pain, and so often it felt indistinguishable from denial or forced positivity. But the only way out is through! However that positivity must look, please allow it its space.
If it can only be “toxic”, let it be a violent, unstoppable force rather than an aching, slow acting poison that tears you apart.
Grab the ram by its horns, embrace the shift, and let us all bloom beautifully, taking up space and retreating to hibernate when necessary.
All things have their cycles. The least we can do is honor them.
<3 Nwaka
Great to read from you again! I hope you’re enjoying London 🥰
Great to see you writing again.