Chalk it up to a Leo-heavy birth chart, or simple introversion: I tend to feel uncomfortable in a crowd. But when my progressed Moon passed through Aquarius a couple of years ago, I became downright gregarious. After years of dragging me kicking and screaming to social events, my sociable Libra husband was flabbergasted to find me planning parties and initiating outings with friends. For awhile, all this socializing actually catalyzed my creativity. But eventually the progressed Moon moved on, leaving my energy and creative juices depleted. It felt as though I’d been trying to jump-start my battery with the jumper cables attached to the wrong terminals.
At this Full Moon, the Sun and Mercury are moving through Aquarius, the sign of friends and social networks. Each year when the Sun leaves diligent Capricorn for the friendlier pastures of Aquarius, the temptation is strong to replace a work-jammed calendar with more social engagements than usual. But even if you’re naturally extroverted, filling your days and evenings with appointments, phone calls, emails, and parties may eventually cause your vitality to flag. We all need time on our own to “re-create” – to feed the Solar/Leo self. For some, it’s relatively easy to recognize the signs of social fatigue and take happy refuge in the studio, the kitchen, or whatever space we’ve carved out for creative ventures. But some of us are not so lucky and have a hard time finding the way back to our own creative hearts – may not, in fact, have ever discovered them in the first place.
Even the most well meaning parents may neglect the playful, creative side of their children, focused as they are on preparing their kids to succeed in an increasingly competitive world. And for all children, peer pressure and the desire to fit in can dampen creative expression. Where my husband comes from they call it “Tall Poppy Syndrome”: anyone who tries to stand out from the crowd gets cut down to size. For women, in particular – naturally attuned as we are to lunar rhythms – tapping into the Solar self can be difficult. Everything in our culture urges us to master the arts of relationship and attraction rather than pursuing the independent path of a creative “tall poppy.”
Become the artist you want to date
When I was younger, I watched many women project their Solar selves, their creative, intellectual, and even spiritual urges, onto men. I had friends who would only date artists or musicians – even when their gifts were accompanied by drug use, financial irresponsibility, or infidelity. During my years as a musician I saw a lot of women like this, hanging around backstage waiting to meet the guitarist or the drummer, and they baffled me. Partly it was because having worked with so many musicians, they held no romantic mystery for me. But it also seemed that women who were obsessed with artists were missing out on something special: the thrill, validation, and power that come from creating and performing art themselves. I couldn’t imagine that romantic involvement with musicians, writers, or athletes would be nearly as satisfying. Better to feed your own creative Leo lionness, I thought – to become the musician, the writer, the athlete.
But my dirty little secret was that I’d become a musician not just for the satisfaction of self-expression, but because I was a social misfit without a lot of other options. Unlike the girls who hung around backstage at the clubs where my band played, who traveled in tight, homogeneously attractive groups, I didn’t fit in. And to be honest, I envied – still envy – women who “fit in.” Even now I often feel out of place at a bridal shower or girl’s night out.
Those of us with untapped Aquarius energy wander through life feeling as though we missed school on the very important day when social networking skills were taught. Humans are social animals, and it’s threatening to be unable to find a place in one’s pack. We’re hard-wired to crave the very Aquarian experience of belonging. But if fitting in means surrendering the ideas, gifts, and self-expression that are uniquely ours, our Leo selves insist that it’s too dear a price to pay.
Finding Your Place by Standing Out
As it turned out, not fitting in has proved to be one of my greatest blessings. I remember thinking early on that if I couldn’t fit in, I’d damn well make the best of standing out. So I gave myself over completely to music and later to writing, and in the end, a wonderful thing happened: By standing out, I somehow managed to find my place – to find love, acceptance, and friendship on my own terms.
Every now and then, the odd Uranus transit or progressed planet in Aquarius gives me a taste of what it’s like to simply, effortlessly, belong – to take enjoyment and energy from social connections. But when the transit passes and I return to the social wilderness, I don’t mind. There are creative treasures to be found there. I find myself there.
During the Sun in Aquarius season, collective identity and common purpose are energized, to the extent that your Leo self may be feeling a tad undernourished. At this Full Moon in Leo, painful memories of creative, romantic, and social hurts may be stirring. Rather than pushing these unhappy memories hastily to one side, perhaps there’s something to be learned from them.
At the Leo Full Moon, we’re asked to meditate about the kind of fuel that powers the engine of our hearts – and to seek our place in the hearts of others. If you’re feeling tired and stale, schedule some time alone for creative play. If you’ve been feeling as though you don’t belong anywhere, maybe it’s because you’re trying to fit yourself into shapes that don’t suit you. This Full Moon is an opportunity to step back for a moment and get reacquainted with your passions – to make your own kind of music, as the old song says – and to trust that they will unite you and the people with whom you truly belong.
© April Elliott Kent. All rights reserved.
Funny, I always think of Leo as being sociable, but I guess it wants to be able to shine, not so much fit in. Being authentic and creating and seeing itself in its own creations, but Leo also wants to be seen. Maybe the hard part with feeling like not fitting in is not being recognized for oneself, not being in a place you can shine. Sounds like you finally found your place to shine.
This Leo Full Moon will exactly conjoin my natal Leo Moon on my Ascendant, and my progressed Moon just entered Leo. I’ll be focused on making my own kind of music!
True and inspiring. This resonates with my Saturn in Libra as well. Thank you!
You made cry and be happy at the same time. It’s healing. Thank you, I needed this today. xxx
When you all write about your progressed moons, which system are you using. I’m trying to get this kind of info from Astrodienst but there are so many chart options there, I’m not sure which is which. A simple progressed chart which shows the horoscope of a certain number of days after your birth corresponding to your years, a progressed new moon chart? Something else?
Thanks!
Rosemary, I’m always using Secondary Progressions until I state otherwise, which yes, are based on planetary positions in the days after your birth (7 days = 7 years of age, etc.). The progressed Moon moves about one degree per calendar month. You can find the current position of your progressed Moon (and other progressed planets) by going to astro.com and making these selections:
Horoscope Drawings & Calculations
- Extended Chart Selection
- Methods > Please select the type of chart you want:
(drop down menu) Progressions > Progressed chart
I hope that helps!
Leo wants to be seen, but doesn’t necessarily want to tramp about with the peasants.
Thanks so much, April. I hope you don’t mind if I ask another question. Do the aspects between planets in the progressed chart matter in the same way that the natal aspects do? Or do you only look at your progressed moon’s house or sign?
Hi Rosemary – People write about the progressed Moon a lot because it moves much more quickly than the other progressed planets. But aspects between planets in the progressed chart are definitely important! In particular, if you were born with a planet approaching an aspect to another planet, it’s significant when the aspect between the progressed planets becomes exact. For instance, if you were born thirteen days before a Venus/Mars conjunction, then when you’re thirteen years old the aspect becomes exact between progressed Venus and Mars. That would be a very important Venus/Mars year for you. I hope that makes sense!
Thanks for sharing April…it resonates with mé. Blessings ~*~
Thanks again! That’s very helpful, although almost all of my planets are in conjunctions to begin with and seem to only be separating in progression. But I did keep thinking that if only Jupiter were in Cancer not Leo, I’d have a grand trine between Saturn, Venus and Jupiter and the description of Jupiter in Cancer seems to fit me these days. Well, guess what? Jupiter turned retrograde immediately after I was born and moved back into Cancer. Saturn moved forward to meet Jupiter, and Neptune in Scorpio moved forward to finish the trine. All this stuff just blows my mind.
Hi April – I love your essay! It possessed me to add a little aside for you to ponder: I’m an Aquarian with a stellum of (5) planets and a node in Aquarius (born in 1962), and Uranus in Leo opposing a few. Interestingly, I have never felt that I fit in, and always seem to be an outsider looking in. I have often read that Aquarians are adept in the social realm, and wonder why the description did not seem to apply to me. You would think with all the planets in Aquarius and in the 11th House (Saturn, Venus, Sun, Mercury, Jupiter) I would be taking on all the humanitarian causes. Turns out I have been shy most of my life and, like you, rather uncomfortable in crowds. Maybe this Leo moon will wake me up a bit!
As a somewhat socially misfit double Gemini, your piece about knowing theyself and living it really spoke to me. Thank you.
So true.. This hits me like a rock!
My natal moon is in 18º Leo in house XII (making a conjunction to this full-moon) opposing to my natal Sun (22º) and Mercury (24º) both in Aquarius House VI.. This makes of me an Aquarius with Leo ascendent.. To make it more intense my Uranus is in the 4th house in Scorpio (20º) squaring both Sun and Moon..
I feel I do not fit, I feel I’m not vibrating in the Aquarius’ energy yet, I feel I need a friend..
I forgot to add that my natal Mars is also in Aquarius 17º degree, opposing the moon too…
Hi April. I love your writing. Great post. Interesting re the self vs other.
I always think of Aquarians as social people yet misfits at the same time. Uranus after all is a very quirky planet, as are most Aquarians (quirky, not planets).
And Leo is about self (as in Sun… ) yet Aquarius is also about individuality.
It seems it is one of those axis points of opposite signs where both reflect each other!
Anyway, you hit the spot re the outsider vs the group … with Chiron in Aquarius opposite Uranus in Leo, I can totally relate.
Leo moon in the fifth house here. This article brought me to tears as well. I never thought about the need to stand out versus being seen. this makes a lot of sense.