When I was growing up, my mom played around with zodiacs as a hobby. I’ve known I’m a Libra sun for as long as I can remember, which means I love beauty, art, culture, and — above all else — attention. That makes sense given my creative flair and affinity for the stage. When I started having crushes, I’d try to find out my crush’s birthday to see if we were compatible.
As a teen, I maintained my interest in astrology, but I didn’t take it seriously as a spiritual practice. I also started questioning my sexuality. At one point, I thought I might be pansexual, but since I went to a predominantly Christian school in the South and dealt with my own internalized queerphobia, I let those thoughts go and identified as a straight, Christian, LGBTQIA+ “allywp_posts— I’d even fight with my peers about queer folks’ rights to marriage, protection, and safety.
I definitely wasn’t projecting or anything. Not at all.
Finally, when I was about 20, I had a spiritual awakening — I realized I didn’t resonate with any one organized religion or theology, so I developed my own belief system. A few years after that, I accepted that I was queer.
During this time, I started connecting with astrologers. I learned that astrology is so much deeper than viral videos and memes — it can actually be traced back to the third millennium BC. I learned about my different astrology placements and observed how those placements show up in my personality and life. Being a Libra always resonated deeply, but that’s not only because I’m a Libra Sun. My Mercury is also in Libra, and — most importantly, in the context of my sexuality journey — so is my Venus.
Venus is the planet of love and relationships. Libra is the sign associated with love and relationships. Libra is at home in Venus, which means I thrive in committed, doting, reciprocal relationships. I’ve always been a sucker for Hallmark fairytale love stories and dreamed of having one of my own someday. I love ambitiously, sometimes to my own detriment.
Throughout my twenties, I found myself in some complicated, toxic, and downright abusive relationships and stayed when I should have left in the name of “love.wp_postsAnd another problem arose with each partner: Something wasn’t clicking sexually. I thought something was wrong with me, because no matter what I did, I simply couldn’t enjoy intimacy. I felt something for each of my partners, but I struggled to be with them sexually — or feel any attraction to them at all — unless I was completely and utterly in love with them.
When I learned about demisexuality, my feelings suddenly made sense. As a demisexual, my attraction is based on my emotional connection to someone. That’s why in some situations, I could jump into sex with excitement, and in other situations — even if my partner was doing everything “rightwp_posts— something still felt wrong.
At first, coming to terms with my demisexuality didn’t bring me relief — instead, I felt angry. I just wanted to enjoy casual sex like everyone else. But when I talked to an astrologer friend about sexuality and astrology, my feelings changed. I recognized that the stars were literally aligned the day I was brought into this universe for me to live and breathe a life fueled by love. That made me feel as if my sexuality wasn’t a mistake, but rather, a divine choice. Obviously, not every demisexual person’s Venus sign is in Libra, but for me, knowing my astrology placements (and knowing how astrology works in general) has helped me feel more comfortable with myself.
Now when it comes to intimacy and partners, I feel more confident. I know what I need to get going, what I will do, what I won’t do, and what just won’t work. I was made to love, to be loved, and to make love (under certain conditions) — the universe says so.