No, not you, I wasn’t speaking to you about you.
You’re fine, you’re worthy and deserve to be loved for it and for everything else about you.
I wasn’t speaking to the narcissists in my life either, to my narcissistic parents who often seemed to be saying these words to me.
I wasn’t speaking to myself… although… I have said this to myself on many occasions in many different ways, so much so that these words belong to me even though they’re not mine.
I didn’t actually speak these words, I found them while looking for something else, and I’m rather glad I strayed in my search.
“Dear Pluto in Virgo,
We, the rest of the world, understand that you are dissatisfied with your choices and behavior. We acknowledge that you believe that you are not good enough and, in fact, may never be, no matter what you do.
Your assumption that any problems or imbalances in the world around you must be due to the fact that you are a failure seems central to who you think you are. We do not agree, yet we try many things to attempt to help you feel better about yourself. We like you, but we are sometimes hesitant to interrupt your self-pity and emotional self-flagellation party. Often we tell you to be easy on yourself and let things go, and that you don’t have do anything to be loved. We can see that you’re not really hearing us, and that you’d rather look around the room to see what’s out of place because it being out of place surely means that you are worthless and deserve to be hated for it.
What we’d like you to know is that all that is wrong in the world is not your responsibility.”
(for the rest of this letter, follow this LINK – he has also written letters to other Pluto placements)
Pluto in astrology represents a variety of things, as all planets (it’s still a planet in astrology) do.
For more about Pluto, please check this awesome resource out – All about Pluto.
When I first started exploring astrology, Pluto was relegated to being a ‘generational influence’ and most books on the subject only had one paragraph about it somewhere at the back of the book, as though it wasn’t really relevant. As though the generation into which we are born is irrelevant to who we are, what we do with who we are and how we experience who we are within the collective. Or at least that’s the impression I got from what I perceived astrologers’ attitudes to be towards it at the time (ties have changed and Pluto is now very relevant). So I was dismissive about it too.
But… I have Pluto in the 1st house in my natal chart. The first of the ‘personal’ houses and the section of the chart which represents personality and the self.
I have often been dismissive about my self.
Growing up with narcissists as parents will influence you to do that.
However it seems that this tendency is perhaps innate, nature rather than nurture – or a lack of nurture, nurture subverted to feed those who are supposed to be doing the nurturing.
But you do have to give some credence to astrology and your natal chart to go down that path. Or something along those lines.
Virgo often gets a bad rap as the hyper-critical bitch of the zodiac.
I have the sign as my Ascendant (rising sign). And yes, I can be that – it’s most noticeable when I’m talking about myself (although I wouldn’t recommend watching TV or films in my company).
My partner (who is ultra Virgo) recently called me out on my self-criticism. I looked at him in shock. WTF, Dude!?! Pot/kettle!!! After some banter, I got where he was coming from…
When we’re critical about ourselves in front of other people, we can inadvertently end up criticising other people for loving us. Our self-flagellation hits them in their love for us – if we’re so awful, then what are they for loving us? We’re sort of turning their love for us into something awful, and they’re awful for loving us.
Something like that.
I promised to tone it down, I didn’t want to insult him just because I have a habit of insulting myself. His love for me taught me how to love myself and not just as a rebel yell, and it has saved my life by challenging me to learn to love myself with gentleness (which was frigging hard to do).
Toning down the external expression of it tends to ramp up the volume on the inside. I have a Virgo Moon too, so I tend to keep everything to myself as it is, which can overload my system – when someone with Pluto in the 1st has a system overload, things can get rather destructive, especially internally.
Sometimes that’s exactly what needs to happen. The old order needs to be destroyed so something new can be born. Pluto can also be very creative – but that kind of creativity is a bit like a Phoenix.
I always thought that my feeling of ‘not being good enough’ came from my natal Saturn square Sun, as that’s what that aspect pretty much means.
Since my Sun sign is Capricorn (another sign which gets a bad rap), whose ambition comes from never feeling good enough and striving to climb out of that pit, and Saturn is the ruling planet of Capricorn… it made sense. But astrology is as complex as being human. Just when you think you’ve sussed it out… something comes along and lets you know that you know nothing.
My natal Pluto connects to my Sun by a trine. The Sun basically is the ego, so my ego is in a ‘You’re not good enough’ sandwich.
However, this isn’t as bad as it can sometimes seem.
Those words “…you are worthless and deserve to be hated for it.” can be as good as they sound bad, for everything bad has good in it, just as everything good has bad in it. Duality makes up the whole. They can inspire the best and the worst, and once you’ve experienced the best and the worst, a middle ground, an in between, a blending of the two, can be found.
Some of the aspects of my being myself which people tend to love the most about me, come from the struggle inside with the worst of me, and the need to find the best in the worst by going through the worst to find it. The gift in the curse. The positive in the negative of… even being a narcissist, or whatever you want to call it.
Do you know why narcissists are the way that they are… the answer lies within the wounds they pass on.
Those wounds tell a story, just as our wounds do.
Sometimes the wounds they pass on… belong to us too, which is perhaps why we accept them. Sometimes nature and nurture are on the same page. What we do with wounds, ours, theirs, or both, is up to us.
What I’ve done with them… is a mess. Embracing that mess has been tough, but worth it. Maybe. Not sure. Never will be…
And to think this all started because I was exploring how I got here from there… and there is a memory which is fading, but a feeling which will never completely fade away because it is part of the here and now.
If that makes sense…