My First Saturn Return
The Beginning of the End of Illusion
My Saturn return began in 2023, and it marked a sacred threshold in my life. It was the beginning of the end of the parts of myself that I had spent years giving away, parts built with blood, sweat, tears, and prayer. I poured my energy into people, projects, and relationships with the belief that if I did the hard work for others, I could hand them something stable, something whole, something beautiful. I believed that was what helping meant. I believed that was love. I believed that was service. But Saturn does not dwell in illusion. Saturn is the keeper of time, the guardian of truth, and the architect of consequence. It does not entertain fantasies. It reveals what is real, what is sustainable, and what is not. What I went through during this time was not about other people’s behavior. It was about my own patterns. It was about the parts of me that kept going above and beyond, even when my spirit was asking me to slow down. It was about the cycles I could not see until I was forced to gather the broken pieces of something I had spent years building, only to watch it fall apart in someone else’s hands. Saturn in Pisces did not simply refine a corner of my life. It dissolved illusions I had been living inside. It stripped away the fantasy that I could save people by doing the work for them. It showed me that you cannot hand someone a finished masterpiece if they do not have the structure, discipline, or awareness to care for it.
Strength Is Not Endurance
My Saturn in Pisces forms a grand trine with my natal Jupiter (retrograde) in Scorpio that is conjunct my Moon in my first house and that trines my Venus in Cancer in the ninth house. The last three years were not random chaos. They were precise refinements of my identity, emotional depth, values, love, and higher understanding. What I learned is simple, but not easy. Strength is not measured by how much you can endure. Strength is measured by your ability to confront your ego when cycles repeat. Anyone can use their ego to justify staying in the same loop. Real strength is the willingness to look at the part of yourself that keeps those cycles alive and then change it. For a long time, I believed other people’s failures were reflections of my leadership. Saturn taught me something harder: people do not move at the pace success requires. They move at the pace they are willing to tolerate. Before my Saturn return, I found fulfillment in helping anyone who seemed like they were standing on one leg. Whether it was lack of resources, health struggles, or life circumstances, I wanted to hold their hand and help them back up. But Saturn taught me that a helping hand is not helpful when someone uses their limitations to keep the cycle alive.
The Pattern Beneath the Pattern
I began to notice a thread in the people who came into my life. Different backgrounds, different wounds, different circumstances, but the same core pattern. They sacrificed themselves to keep peace with people who were committed to misery and I realized I was repeating that same pattern with them. They said they wanted success. They said they wanted peace. They said they wanted growth. But often, what they really wanted was the outcome of what I had built. When I showed them the structure and discipline required, they collapsed in the same way the people they were trying to appease had collapsed before them. There is no softer way to say it. There are miserable people in the world. You cannot change that. The only thing you can control is making sure their misery does not change you.
The Isolation of Growth
My Saturn return revealed something uncomfortable but sacred: my mind does not function like most people’s. Intelligence is often romanticized because of the illusion of superiority it seems to carry, but few people talk about the isolation that comes with it—the misunderstandings, the projections, and the judgment. Many people want the feeling of being special, but not the discipline required to become it. That is the ego in motion, perpetuating the very cycles they claim they want to escape. Before my Saturn return, all I wanted was to feel like I belonged. What I did not realize is that being part of something greater often requires you to function differently from the masses you are meant to guide. Saturn taught me to tighten my circle. The people in my life now are there because I learned the value of my uniqueness and became willing to protect it. I no longer give advice. I offer lived solutions. Saturn does not reward fantasies. Saturn rewards responsibility, maturity, and truth. Sometimes the truth is that your role was never to blend in. It was to build something real, protect it, and lead from experience.
The Rooms You Never See
As my life began to expand, I noticed how the past resurfaced in new forms, old stories, old projections, old dynamics wearing new masks. I also became aware of how often I am spoken about, but rarely confronted directly. Everyone is entitled to their version of the story, but the full perspective requires accountability, and accountability is uncomfortable. Some rooms are filled with people waiting to see me fail so they can feel validated in their own limitations. Other rooms are filled with people watching my failures as part of the process, knowing each one shapes something extraordinary. The truth is, I have never met most of the people in either room. Saturn does not measure you by who is watching. It measures you by your consistency.
Lessons From the Water
Out of my thirty-one years of life, four were spent training to make fast decisions under immense pressure. Those years were built on fifteen years of adapting to difficult environments. I played water polo, a sport where you compete not only against another team, but against the water itself. You are constantly fighting to stay afloat while performing at a high level. There is no solid ground beneath you. I will never forget the first time I was held underwater long enough to start choking. I came back up gasping, forcing water out of my lungs, and the game was still going. So in my mind, there was only one option: keep going. Later, Saturn confirmed what science already knows. Physical pain and emotional pain travel through similar neurological pathways. The brain does not distinguish between a wound to the body and a wound to the heart. Pain is pain. That is why emotional suffering feels so real, and that is why I learned how to move through it. I am not afraid of pain, physical or emotional. What I fear is stagnation.
The Danger of Stagnant Water
The most dangerous water in the world is stagnant water. It breeds disease. It becomes cloudy, toxic, and filled with organisms that slowly poison everything around it. It still looks like water, but it is no longer life giving. That is what stagnation does to the spirit. Sometimes stagnation looks like comfort, routine, and sometimes it even looks like peace. But beneath the surface, the soul begins to decay from the lack of movement. Saturn taught me that you need to witness stagnation to truly appreciate the miracle of movement. Flowing water cleanses, nourishes, and sustains life. Without the contrast of stagnation, you would never fully understand the sacredness of motion. Even stagnant people serve a purpose. They become reflections of what happens when perspective stops evolving and the ego is allowed to harden in place. From my lived experience, there is no rational reason to remain stuck if you are capable of standing. Movement creates momentum. Momentum creates structure. Structure creates stability. And stability is what Saturn was trying to teach me all along.
People Move at Their Own Pace
I have met extraordinary people in my life. People who have made real, visible strides in their personal development and witnessing that growth has been one of my greatest joys. Saturn taught me that everyone’s ability to maintain movement is different. I have watched people rebuild themselves, find comfort again, and step into new identities. Then slowly, I have watched the ego reform around that new version of themselves. Old fears return. Old patterns whisper again. That is when I learned something sacred: people move at their own pace, and that pace is not mine to control. For me, progression is not negotiable. I move quickly to you, but to me, I can smell the rot and decay from the stagnant waters you call rest sitting in your soul. So, please excuse me, but my path is that way —>.
Pain Is Not a Competition
I have listened to thousands of people compare their wounds as if pain exists on a hierarchy, as if one story deserves more reverence than another. The soul does not measure pain that way. It is not the event that shapes us. It is the meaning we give it. Two people can walk through entirely different storms and carry the same emotional weight. The difference is not in the storm. The difference is in who chooses to transform it.
The Role Saturn Revealed
Saturn is not a gentle teacher. It is precise, honest, and unforgiving in its lessons. My Saturn return taught me something essential: I am not here to lead the masses. I am here to lead leaders. Many people say they are doing the work, but remain trapped in the same cycles because they are working on the parts of themselves that are easy to abandon when life becomes difficult. That is not the work that creates transformation. My path is not about being everything to everyone. It is about guiding those who are ready to take responsibility for their lives, their choices, and their growth. That does not mean I lack compassion. It does not mean I will not offer a hand. But I am not here to hold someone up while they take pieces of me. Saturn taught me the difference between support and self-sacrifice, between guidance and depletion, and between service and self-abandonment. Real leadership is not about carrying people. It is about showing them how to stand on their own with what they have.