Notes from the Underground AKA The Dark Side of the Moon

Black Moon Lilith is an astrological mystery. A dark point in the sky, she represents the farthest point in the Moon's orbit around the earth. Ensconced in darkness, Black Moon Lilith represents the Dark Mother, or the shadowed aspect of the feminine spirit inside each and every one of us.

When Black Moon Lilith comes into close configuration with our personal planets, she can illuminate the aspects we have forgotten in the shadow realm. It is in these configurations she asks that we take a look at what we've looked away from and, once and for all, clear out our darkened dens.

On the heels of the Snow Moon--the Full Moon in Virgo--I dreamt of a love that passed me by. Or, more accurately, a love I passed on, believing I had no purpose having that kind of love.

The dream lover was a crystal-having, tarot reading musician I was in complete and total awe of.

"What can't he do?" I gushed with the classmate beside me.

This classmate, Katie, was said at one point to be the prettiest girl in school. With long brown hair and a body like the girls in Hollister ads, I remember walking in middle school up the stairs behind her. I felt completely unworthy--of what, I wasn't sure, though I see it clearly now:

I felt completely unworthy of love.

How could anyone love me when there were people like Katie--beautiful people--to love?

Sure, I was smart; I tried to be kind; but I was also fat and fat did not equal beautiful where I was from.

*Queue the chorus of "You'd be so pretty *if*..."

If I lost weight; if I tried more; if I didn't like chocolate so dang much.

Internalizing these ifs, I believed that even if I could get a boyfriend, the second they saw my thin, beautiful sisters they would forget about me. Or remember with a sigh that they got the ugly sister.


I stop to wipe my tears; it's been a while since I've gone there. Years of trying--of plucking and poking; of treadmills and Sephora and side salads--only masked the truth of how inferior I feel because of the way my body is--because of the way I am.

I feel I am impossible to love romantically--like I'm someone a man would be ashamed to stand beside.

And perhaps these feelings are here because deep down, I'm ashamed of myself.

I'm ashamed I grow chin hairs, ashamed of my protruding belly, ashamed I've gained weight, and ashamed that it feels like there's nothing I can do to be skinny forever.

My body just bounces back.

I did an experiment last year called "Trying Out My Chin Hair for 30 Days" and I made it only half way before trimming the hairs down. At the time, that was a huge success, though the empowerment I felt in claiming the fact I grew chin hairs was fleeting.

It wasn't long before I began shaving again, wanting the smoothest look I could get with the least amount of pain.

Oh, the pain I put myself through threading my chin hair, getting it lasered away--all temporary solutions to the bigger problem of me only allowing myself to feel pretty if.

But the hairs always came back, an itchy reminder of that which I so hated to be reminded of.

So, a week or two ago, I decided to give myself another 30 day test run in allowing my true self to come forward, chin hair and all.

It was also about a week or two ago ago I fell into the ditch of insecurities I had long since denied...

Growing up, I would never own being insecure because I saw that as a flaw in and of itself.

I can't be fat and miserable about it, I thought, and so I hid my shame and misery and hoped they would go away before I could ever find them again.

One vivid dream and a small forest of chin hairs later, I have found them once again.

Hello, Darkness, my old friend...

I'm climbing out of this ditch, though the mud sticks in my fingernails and I feel I'm getting nowhere.

I can see the light at the top, though I've got quite a ways to climb.

Still, I climb.

And I hold my Blue Calcite to help me think gentle, loving thoughts towards myself for maybe the first time ever.

I try not to look down.

Sometimes, the best I can do is stand still.

And, still, I climb.

February 28, 2021

These are notes from my ongoing journey towards total self acceptance and love. And it's definitely that--a journey, filled with bends, curves, and the occasional forest frolic.



© 2023 Sister Shaman