Secret Identity

Not ‘me vs we’ but ‘without we there is no me’

Hello lovelies,

One thing you’ll know about me, if you’ve been around for a while, is that I don’t really do things by the book when it comes to astrological themes and archetypes. That ‘Me vs We’ dynamic of the Aries-Libra axis? Yeah, it’s there, but it’s only one way of looking at it. If we’re going to keep evolving, we’ve got to expand beyond these conventional, narrow definitions — that’s the very spirit of Pluto moving from Capricorn into Aquarius, don’t you think?

So, yes — Libra invites us to balance the ‘me’ with the ‘we’. And the way we experience the ‘other’ in our lives depends on how solid our sense of self is. I’ve talked about this before, and we’ve explored how important it is to understand our own self-worth before we start navigating relationships. (By the way, that’s not an excuse to avoid relationships until we feel we’re perfect, but rather a call to bring our awareness to an understanding of self, while we engage with the other.) But here’s what often gets missed: relationships aren’t just about finding a superficial sense of balance – a kind of “can’t we all just get on.” They’re about revealing parts of ourselves we don’t always see — parts that can only be brought out through interacting with others which leads to a true sense of balance, within and without.

This week’s Full Moon in Aries is highlighting these exact dynamics. It’s shining a light on who we really are and how we show up — for ourselves and in our relationships. Full Moons are a culmination point, a time of release, and Aries energy tends to amplify where we need to assert our individuality. So this is the moment to ask — where have we given up parts of ourselves in the name of keeping the peace? And where have we let relationships define us, rather than reflecting back who we are?

And that’s where this whole idea of inner exploration comes in — the self-discovery, the self-healing, the shadow work — whatever you want to call it. We do it because we want to know who we are without relying on someone else to tell us. Think about it: before we did any of that inner stuff, how many of us were using relationships as a way to figure ourselves out? How many of us were looking for validation outside of ourselves because we didn’t know how to give it to ourselves first?

If we look at the first six signs of the zodiac, it’s all about building the self. Aries is the ‘I am’ — the initiation point of our individual identity. It’s where we take those first steps into the world, realising that we exist as separate beings. Then we enter Taurus, where we start figuring out what we value, what’s worth keeping, and what provides a sense of stability. This isn’t just about material security — it’s where we form the foundation of self-worth.

Gemini shifts the focus from our inner world to the external as we begin to communicate and share ideas. It’s about how we think, express ourselves, and interpret the information we receive. It’s the stories we tell ourselves and the language we use to define our experience. When we reach Cancer, we connect with our emotions, forming our inner sense of safety and nurturing. This is where we start building a home within ourselves — a place where we can retreat, heal, and grow.

Leo steps forward and shines a spotlight on our self-expression. It asks, ‘How do I radiate what’s in my heart and show it to the world?’ It’s not just about self-love — it’s about stepping onto the stage of life and saying, ‘This is me.’ Then we enter Virgo, where we refine what we’ve built. We look at the details, assess what’s working and what isn’t, and make changes to align with our true nature. It’s about discernment, understanding, and integrating all the previous steps, ready to serve and heal. How we do that is through the relationship dynamics of Libra.

We went through all that because, until we truly knew ourselves, we were grasping for validation, direction, or security from others - trying to get what we hadn’t yet found within. We wanted someone else to affirm our sense of self, to confirm that we were seen and recognised as individuals. If we weren’t sure of what we valued, we looked to external sources — material possessions, accomplishments, or even other people’s approval — to tell us what we were worth. Unsure of our own thoughts, we echoed the voices around us, borrowing opinions or adopting beliefs that felt safe or familiar. And when we didn’t know how to find emotional safety within, we sought comfort and nurturing in people, substances, or distractions to keep the inner turmoil at bay.

In those moments of doubt or confusion, we projected our light onto others, looking for someone who could express the boldness and creativity we didn’t yet know how to tap into. We sought people and experiences that we thought could reflect our own inner fire — or worse, we dimmed our light to avoid judgement. And when it came to evaluating our lives, we leaned on others to tell us what was working and what wasn’t, adopting their standards instead of our own. We sought advice and validation for every choice, hoping that if we did everything ‘right’ by external standards, we would finally feel worthy, whole and healed.

This is how we often end up defining ourselves through our connections — through our relationships to people, work, or possessions. We look to our achievements to tell us we’re good enough, or we rely on the approval of others to know we’re on the right path. We shape our lives around these external reflections, mistaking them for true self-knowledge. But that’s not how it works, is it?

The more we grasp at these things, the more elusive a solid sense of self becomes. What we were really trying to do was fill gaps within — gaps that could only be closed by turning inward. The irony is that once we’ve done that, these external reflections become clearer. They no longer define us but reflect back what’s already there. What once felt like desperate attempts to find ourselves outside of ourselves now becomes a process of realignment. We no longer need to seek validation or guidance from the external world because we recognise it’s been within us all along.

But once we’ve anchored those parts of ourselves and have a firm sense of who we are, something profound happens — we can show up in the world and engage with others in a different way. We no longer look to others to complete us but to nurture and grow the aspects of ourselves we’ve cultivated. It’s through sharing, combining, and holding space for each other’s growth that we bring deeper meaning to our interactions and start co-creating a reality that is reflective of our shared values and collective evolution.

This is where the second half of the zodiac comes into play — it’s no longer just about personal development. Now, it’s about how the individual contributes to something greater, forming partnerships, finding shared purpose, and striving for ideals that uplift the whole. When we engage with others from a place of wholeness, we create relationships that aren’t just reflections but catalysts for expansion. Together, we explore new possibilities, build stronger communities, and establish higher laws and principles that support not just the self, but the collective.

The first ‘secret identity’ that gets revealed through this inner exploration is the realisation that you can’t build who you are from the outside in — it’s always been about starting within. When we’re unclear on our own identity, we end up leaning too heavily on relationships, hoping they’ll do the heavy lifting. But relationships can’t fill in what’s missing or define us—they can only mirror back what’s already there.

So, when I say ‘without we there is no me,’ it’s not about losing yourself in the ‘we’. It’s about recognising that ‘we’ can reveal and refine the ‘me’ that’s already there — the self you’ve cultivated through that inner journey. Relationships are where we get to see ourselves more clearly, where we discover things about ourselves that we can’t see on our own. And this deeper insight happens only when we engage from a place of inner wholeness. When we no longer seek to fill our emptiness through others, our connections become an exchange of energy that nurtures both — lifting the individual and expanding the collective.

Yet, that’s not the end of it. As much as we like to talk about healing and fixing ourselves, it’s crucial to recognise that even the parts of us we’ve judged or tried to change were never really ‘broken’. They were our initial ways of loving and protecting ourselves. Our so-called barriers and blockages weren’t enemies to be conquered — they were our defenders and shields. They stood guard, keeping us safe long enough to reach the place where we could consider a life without them.

It’s so easy to look back and feel shame or regret about the behaviours or patterns we developed, whether we blame ourselves or others for them. We see them as flaws or weaknesses to be overcome. But what if we saw them differently? What if we recognised that those parts of ourselves — the ones we’ve been trying so hard to change — were doing their best to look after us? It was the love we had for ourselves back then, even if it wasn’t the kind of love we’d choose now. This is why offering those parts of ourselves acceptance, grace, and forgiveness is so essential — because it’s only when we’ve shown ourselves this understanding that we can genuinely offer it to anyone else.

Once we start to see these aspects of ourselves as inner warriors — guardians who stood watch over our hearts — we realise that they were never barriers at all. They were our way of saying, ‘I care about you enough to protect you, even if that means closing you off, numbing you out, or putting up walls.’ They were our first expressions of self-love. If we don’t honour that, we risk rejecting not only parts of ourselves but also entire swathes of society that mirror those aspects. We treat these inner guardians like obstacles to be smashed through instead of acknowledging them as the old guard - protectors who helped us survive but are now ready to be released. They were the armour that got us through our toughest battles, shielding us when we needed it most.

As we recognise and thank these inner guardians, we begin to release them with compassion. And this inner process of healing shifts our outer dynamics as well. Our relationships, which once echoed the inner battles we were waging, can become a new playground for growth. The relationships we have with others are a direct reflection of how we relate to ourselves. When we release those old patterns of protection with grace and gratitude, we can show up in relationships with a deeper sense of security, authenticity, and openness.

From this place, we can ask: What have these interactions revealed about me? What aspects of my identity have come to light? How can I integrate these reflections and step more fully into who I am? These aren’t questions to answer with your mind alone, but to feel into deeply, noticing where you still carry armour and where you’re ready to let it drop. It’s not so much about boundaries here (which will be a key theme in Scorpio season) but rather about the rules and behavioural patterns we develop to express, hide, or protect our identity.

The real balancing act, then, is honouring both the ‘me’ and the ‘we’ as parts of a unified whole. Without ‘we’, there is no ‘me’. Without ‘me’, there is no clear ‘we’. When we reclaim our full, authentic selves, we create the space for genuine, meaningful relationships that support and enhance both. It’s about stepping into our secret identity, whatever that may be — not through the eyes of others, but through the light of our own self-awareness.

In this way, relationships become more than mirrors; they become catalysts for mutual transformation, where our personal and collective evolution can unfold. By embracing both the individual and the collective, we transcend the ‘me’ and ‘we’ dynamic, realising we’ve always been part of a much bigger picture — each of us a unique thread in a shared tapestry, co-creating a reality that honours the self and uplifts the whole.