My Love Language is $$$ During Pisces Season
I have a birthday coming up and am grateful for having the sound of mind to honor this solar return with gumptions of intentional pride.
Considering that I spent the entirety of my 30s living with constant suicidal ideations, to say I appreciate life on my birthday may seem small to you but means the world to me.
In many ways, my 40s was the epitome of IDGAF and I embraced that mantra with passion.
Now, I teach a class where I am free to connect with the students in a relevant way.
I can tell when the students are checked out and when they are absorbing the gems I drop. Lived experiences afford us opportunities to become sage muses and we should hold those positions with sacred reverence.
I often think about how I wished I had “me” when I was younger but the truth is I always had “me” at all areas of my life. I just never gave myself permission to stand in my truth.
As a daydreamer with a Pisces sun, I can thrive in escapism so to expect my whimsical future self to be voice of reason is delusional at best.
But maybe we all need to be cray cray to navigate this chaotic world.
For years I talked a good game about knowing your worth even as I underpriced my offerings and took on low paying jobs. I assumed that my value was worth the piece of paper that I didn’t have and now with it, I am no more and no less capable of my natural talents and the skills I worked my ass to perfect.
A diploma didn’t give me a work ethic but the bravado of being confident enough to command my worth was the bonus of finally getting the piece of paper I waited 23 years for.
Pisces season is my 2nd house solar transit and I find myself asserting a presence that evolves my growth.
I don’t just feel like I’m worth more money but I equally feel entitled to live a life that I fought hard to desire.
I think in many ways, I love working with the demographic of my high school because I was them 30 years ago. After three decades, I still feel the angst of heighten emotions and fear of rejection when walking through the halls of the high school where I work.
Those “coming of age” scars never fully heal. On my first day in the cafeteria I almost had an anxiety attack from the memories of being the new kid at the three different schools I went to while a teenager.
I am good at what I do because I spent the last 20 years honing my expertise. I am great at what I do because I survived my own kamikazi mind despite all the reasons to just call it a short life.
I speak the language of the unseen, misunderstood, and secretly drowning misfit and it took me 47 years to finally realize my purpose.
There’s no way to quantify that kind of long term impact. Healing doesn’t reflect on a spreadsheet.
Faith is the only currency worth it’s weight when doing this kind of work. I finally found my zone of genius and no soy pendeja about how to advocate for equitable compensation.