Everything you have ever heard about Scorpios is absolutely true. Sure, they’re loyal, intuitive, honest, and ambitious, but they’re also manipulative, secretive, vindictive, controlling, and jealous. I have always known the extent of the power that Scorpios wield because I was raised by one: my mother. Trapped in a family of Aries, Sagittariuses, Leos, and Tauruses for most of her life, my mother was the lone water sign in her family. In family fights, I often heard fearful whispers: “Don’t get her started. You know how she is.” But whenever those same people were wronged and needed defending, they all knew who to call: the one-woman storm. Because you know how she is.
Our birthdays are two days apart (October 24 and October 26), and I often worried that I would never live up to the reputation that the stars had destined for me because I didn’t act like her. Oh yeah, I should mention that I, too, am a Scorpio. (Hence why I can really confirm it’s all true.)
There have been many battles of manipulation between my mother and myself. When we argue, we’re both unwilling to concede to the other, resulting in long standoffs. We’re both kind of loners, mad loyal, and never let things go. Even though we’re equally slow to forgive, she is much quicker to anger, and I am much quicker to tears.
When my mother obtained her full birth certificate, she was suspicious as to why I needed to know her birth time. Rightfully so, because I was searching for hard evidence from the universe that something in her chart made her a worse, more intense Scorpio than me.
I’ve known my big three for a while: Scorpio Sun, Capricorn Moon, Libra Rising. But seeing my mother’s big three was like seeing her for the first time in 30 years. She is a Scorpio Sun, Scorpio Moon, and Aries Rising.
When she texted me her birth time, I laughed at how similar, yet so different from one another, we were. I was born at 4:36 in the morning, and she was born at 4:46 in the afternoon. At the most basic glance, our charts looked really similar. I hit up my astrologer homegirl—we all have one, right?—Davika to confirm that what I was sure to be true, hidden deep in the stars: I had the better and less chaotic chart.
Davika examined our Big Threes and then our Moons, Mercuries, and Venuses. She noted the similarities in the charts overall, summing them up as two sides of the same coin. My mother and I are both Scorpio Mercuries. I’m a Scorpio Venus, and she’s a Sag Venus. That means we’re both Scorpio stelliums (aka we both have three or more placements in Scorpio…that’s a lot of Scorpio energy). Looking at the rest of the charts, a lot of our placements are in the same element family. Our Chirons are both water signs: Cancer and Pisces, respectively. Her North Node is in Gemini, and mine in Aquarius. Both are air placements, indicating that we communicate better through writing. That was true: We often penned apologies to each other when I was a teen, and I attribute my writing career to her now.
Talk about a effing cosmic joke. Both Scorpio stellium women have to silence their ego for harmony?
Davika said that the concentrated energy in our charts and our complementary placements actually has the potential to be harmonious. My mom’s Scorpio Moon and my Capricorn Moon both want the same thing, so how do we get to harmony? “It requires silencing the ego.”
Talk about a effing cosmic joke. Both Scorpio stellium women have to silence their ego for harmony? In this economy? In this millennium?
Our Rising signs really spoke to the true conflict. Davika explained that my Libra Rising is more analytical. It heals through talking and holding others accountable, whereas my mother’s Aries Rising simply doesn’t want to be bothered. “Unless your mom is willing to have some conversations, and unless you’re willing to let some conversations go, it’s going to always feel like nobody’s glasses are getting full,” she said. She also pointed out that with the added layer of our Scorpio Suns, we see and see through one another. We might forgive ourselves for some things, but we don’t necessarily extend that same grace to each other. But the real underlying issue is that our relationship is a mother/daughter relationship. We all have expectations about who our mothers should be. And as two stubborn, fixed sign Scorpios, my mother and I both have expectations of one another—and we’re both unrelenting about it.
But as Davika put it, I chose my mother’s soul as a mother, and she chose mine as a daughter for a reason. I say it’s because we’re both gluttons for punishment, but Davika declares it’s because we’re supposed to learn something from each other. While I’m still figuring out what, exactly, that lesson is, I can at least admit (not directly to her, but still) that everything isn’t 100% my mother’s fault. And I also realize that I no longer want a Scorpio daughter, because can you imagine having three generations of Scorpio women in our bloodline? Frankly, I couldn’t handle a Scorpio daughter as critical of me as I’ve been of my mom. Scorpio mother/daughter duos are something else.
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