Except for my Linkedin profile as a student and my Pinterest account totally dedicated to color, I’ve gotten rid of all my other social media. To be fair, I don’t use the two that are still active to socialize. Facebook was the hardest, since I’ve had that one for well over a decade. Previous attempts to get rid of social media have failed, largely because I have to contact people whom I only know how to contact through social media, and because some people actually take not using your social media personally. I’ve tried making my pages less personal because I have tendency to say what I think and forget that people can find me. I first realized this when parents of students were looking us up. So, I paired down when law school started. I got rid of my list of family members because some of them say polarizing things I didn’t want affiliated with me. The reaction? Two of my sisters blocked me and I haven’t spoken to either one in about three years. I heard one of them is getting married in June.
But I don’t feel bad. I didn’t explain myself. It is what it is, and I’m not a close-knit family person. My family is not like that, at least not from my experience. The ruler of my 4th house is retrograde in my 8th house, conjunct Uranus. I dream of a life I never had, in a town my hometown never was, and that I have to place to go back to that never actually existed. Both times I have in recent years gone back to my hometown, I’ve been reminded that there is no place for me there and there never was. I was never able to get ahead, or get a decent job, or find a niche. I acquired a reputation for being “weird” as a child, and that stuck with me no matter what I did or who I grew up to be.
I suppose maybe that’s true, but what passes for normal in that decaying Rust Belt town is just depressing: a booze-and-bankruptcy-soaked tale that just gets repeated over and over again, punctuated by clipping coupons, getting tattoos at the parlors that have replaced all the family-owned boutiques that once filled the downtown area, and drinking at the bars by the prison, where the floors are always sticky and anyone is up for a fight, and a new baby mama or baby daddy is only one more jello shot away. However, that’s the best way to get a decent job: get sloppy drunk with the right people often enough, and you’re bound to become the executive director of some failing local initiative to revive and bring a town into the 21st century that doesn’t want to move out of 1970.
Oh yes: there’s a maximum security prison right in the middle of the town, and that’s completely normal where I grew up such that most people who live there have no idea why this would weird other people out.
If the other choice is being too weird for these people, I’ll take being too weird and turn around and face the rest of the world. There was nothing for me, nothing I could make of myself or my life, and it would have just been a cycle of misery in a miserable place.
I had no choice but to move.
But since then, I realized that I wasn’t getting much happier because I was constantly bombarded with information about this place and these people even though they were so far away and my real life was so different. The thing was that I never really left in my mind because my social media was flooded of people and news from my hometown, and it was as if I was living a double life, with one life in Chicago as a writer, astrologer, and law student in a happy relationship creating a new life of her own design, and two, the weirdo trapped in a small town that didn’t want her, where she would always try to ingratiate herself and always fail. The second one wasn’t real, but I kept making it real in my head because I kept reading and seeing these things, and the truth was that most of the news in my Facebook feed were from people I wasn’t ever really close to. It wasn’t enough to just stop checking since it was ingrained in me that I’m “supposed” to have social media.
I rebelled and quit a few weeks ago. Slowly, it’s starting to feel as if I have actually relocated and reinvented my life, and I’m not missing out on any more than I was already missing out on. Truly, I had already strained most of the bonds I made when I moved away permanently when I was 20. Things happened and I wasn’t there. I wasn’t a familiar face or part of the landscape, and I suppose the opportunity to really get to know me had passed. I have no interest in going back. That is, to me, too much of a gamble. So, why create and maintain a facade as if the last 20 or so years never happened?
Besides, my oppositions always want me to move to other places.
Clients often come to me asking for relocation charts. I haven’t specifically offered relocation charts as a service, but more than half of my requests are from people asking where they should live or work. This could have something to do with our karma and what brings us together, but I think this also has to do with the fact that we live in a place and time where leaving home, or leaving places, and going to new ones to find opportunity and happiness is a commonplace thing, and most of us stay tethered to people and places, usually though social media.
In many places — America included — we can’t bloom where we’re planted. Chances are, if you’re the type to seek out an actual astrologer, you’re the type of person who isn’t