Skip to main content

I was Saturn. My partner was Sun. My Story.

I met my Sun partner in college but I did not pay him much attention. He was short, slim, and goofy. At the time, I was dating a star basketball player and was attracted to a lifestyle of fun vacations, shop sprees, and fine dining.

Five years later, while I was starting a freelance career and collecting unemployment, I ran into him at a party. He recognized me and asked if I went to the same school. I replied affirmatively. Still not paying attention to him, my best friend at the time was engaging in in-depth conversations with him.

After mingling with others, I glanced at him and felt compelled to engage further. I redirected his attention from my best friend and inquired about his hobbies and career, adopting a flirtatious demeanor. I asked for his number. There was an undeniable instant attraction between us, and I found myself unable to stop thinking about him that night.

I called him the next day and invited him out on a date. I was determined and motivated. His reaction was one of shock; he believed I was out of his league. However, I viewed him as a potential partner despite our differing career situations—I was freelancing while he had a more stable career. Nonetheless, my attraction to him remained strong. I sensed in him, he is going to be the one to love me.

I wanted to meet him that night, but we ended up meeting the day after. During the date, he exuded friendly vibes. At the end of our time together, I asked him if he was attracted to me. He replied affirmatively, but expressed a desire to be respectful. However, I disregarded his reservations as I desired to be intimate with him. We returned to his place and engaged in physical intimacy, stopping short of sexual intercourse.

We parted ways that night, and the addiction began.

We tried to play it cool. We would call each other to ask what we were doing to try to see each other. When I was with my friends, they saw me space out and noticed that I was upset because I would rather be with him than with them.

The initial phase of our relationship was enjoyable. We shared holidays together and quickly solidified our bond within a few months. However, I found myself exerting control over the relationship. I managed every aspect, and he complied with my manipulative tactics to stay together. I intentionally created distance at times to emphasize his dependence on me.

We spent as much time together as possible, but there was a brief period when he felt we were moving too fast and decided to break the connection for two weeks. Eventually, we reconciled and became official within a few months. I had confidence that he would return to me, believing that I brought vitality and unique experiences into his life that he would not have encountered otherwise. I viewed myself as superior to him in every aspect and considered him fortunate to have me.

However, despite my unstable employment situation and entrepreneurial endeavors, he remained steady. I projected a sense of importance and value onto him, perhaps more than he deserved, but I granted him the opportunity nonetheless.

I relied on his love to fill the void of my profound insecurities.

I relied on his love to fill the void of my profound insecurities, stemming from a sense of directionlessness in my life. Yet, having him by my side gave me a semblance of stability and control.

Our relationship was reciprocal in many ways. I provided for him as he did for me. We indulged in each other’s company, mutually spoiling and nurturing our bond. My need for him was profound, and he reciprocated by cherishing my affection. Our connection went beyond mere infatuation; it bordered on obsession.

I adopted a strict demeanor in our relationship, often drawing comparisons to his mother due to my serious nature. I felt a compulsion to mold him into someone more aligned with my ideals.

I perceived certain aspects of him as lacking, prompting me to embark on a mission to improve him to meet the standards I was accustomed to. He didn’t possess the height or athletic build I was accustomed to in past partners, but his handsomeness intrigued me nonetheless.

With determination, I delved into a transformative process, refining his wardrobe, demeanor, and career trajectory to better align with my expectations. I drew from past relationships to illustrate the qualities I desired, aiming to shape him into a more polished version of himself.

All my efforts directed towards him detracted from my own personal growth.

While he flourished under my guidance, I began to harbor resentment towards the achievements and recognition I facilitated for him. Despite his progress, he remained within the sphere of my influence, a dynamic I found comfort in.

However, internally, I felt a sense of stagnation and discontent. I was dying inside. Despite my attempts to invest in self-improvement, I found myself trapped in a state of inertia, unable to break free from the confines of our relationship. I gained weight. I could not get out of bed. I was depressed. I hate myself. He was my only lifeforce.

He possessed a radiance that I struggled to find within myself. While both of us were generally well-received by others, his constant need for validation led to competition between us. I found his incessant craving for attention frustrating. Once, he questioned why I couldn’t just let him be, to which I responded by labeling his behavior as immature and attention-seeking. In turn, he accused me of being envious of him. His childish demeanor grated on my nerves incessantly.

As he continued to excel, I grappled with feelings of jealousy and inadequacy. I envied his familial and social connections, particularly as I remained estranged from my own. Desperate to fill a void within myself, I assumed responsibility for managing every aspect of our lives together. My increasing insecurity led me to exert greater control over him, perpetuating a harmful cycle of dependency and manipulation as I continued to resent him.

The issue persisted as if it were a reflex, deeply ingrained within me. I despised this aspect of myself. Recognizing it felt like confronting a reflection of my mother’s behavior, a pattern I unwittingly mirrored. Despite my efforts, I struggled to understand why I couldn’t break free from this cycle.

I clung to him as though he were my lifeline, a means of filling the void within me.

This cycle persisted, perpetuating a sense of emptiness that I couldn’t shake. Ultimately, I felt indebted to him, perhaps stemming from a connection that transcended this lifetime. It drove me to justify every action I took in our relationship.

When he ended our relationship, I was devastated. In the first month alone, I shed 10 pounds, unable to muster the strength to leave my bed. He had been my lifeline, my everything. I had poured my heart, soul, and body into our relationship. Then, he moved on, swiftly finding a new girlfriend and beginning a new life without me. My self-esteem plummeted, sinking me deeper into despair. Within three months, I had lost another 20 pounds, feeling utterly defeated.

Yet, with time, I began to piece myself back together. Months later, I delved deeper into spirituality, recognizing the profound karmic connection that had entwined us. Shattered at the soul level, I was tasked with the challenge of rebuilding myself, emerging stronger and more resilient than before. Looking back, I still struggle to comprehend the grip that relationship had on me.

I vowed. I will never treat another human being like that again.

A profound sense of shame enveloped me, stemming from my identity and my actions. I harbored guilt for not being fully transparent with him and for feeling insecure about every aspect of myself. I held myself in such high regard that allowing myself to connect with him felt like a weakness.

The hold I had on him stemmed from fear. While I was uplifting him, there was a deep-seated fear of him simply leaving me. Unfortunately, those fears materialized. If only I had recognized what it truly was, we could have navigated it together. However, my ego, pride, and need for control were more important to me than building a stronger foundation.

Reflecting on the relationship, I came to the realization that I was utterly miserable. We both engaged in negging, a toxic behavior that tore at the fabric of our connection. Yet, I must acknowledge that the weight of responsibility for this behavior rests heavily on my shoulders; I was ruthless and exacting in my actions.

The darkest aspects of my personality were brought to light in that relationship. I didn’t want to behave that way, but I felt trapped and unable to loosen up. Despite his efforts to improve the atmosphere with plans for Valentine’s Day, picnics, and time with friends and family, none of it succeeded. I felt the need to assert power, control, and dominance in every aspect of our relationship.

It wasn’t that I couldn’t trust him; it was that I was extremely selfish with my affection, deeply resentful, and jealous of his positive demeanor, which only exacerbated my darker tendencies. I felt empty, as if I could never be fulfilled.

We reconnected years later, but things had changed. We were both in new relationships and had evolved as individuals. We weren’t meant to be together long-term. In many ways, I wanted more from the relationship and felt he held me back. I believed I could succeed without him questioning my motives or directives; I saw myself as the more resourceful one. While I was in pain and he was healing from our breakup, I understand he experienced hurt as well.

I blocked him on everything, and he has probably done the same to me to disconnect completely. I feel regretful and remorseful for my actions, and I’m sure he has felt the same way. We both continued on our life journeys. His career continued to ascend, and I am happy I was a part of those crucial moments when he couldn’t do it on his own.

I refuse to catch up with him, see him, or if my friends mention him. I don’t want those feelings to re-emerge. I am scared if they do. I am not sure if I could still be jealous or resentful. At the moment, I just try to ignore that he exists.

I did a past life regression. In one of my regressions, I saw all my family members, cousins, uncles, etc., in a large tent in the middle of a desert. I cannot recall what time period this was, but I did see him clearly in front of me. He looked directly into my eyes. I saw his face; he was angry, with rage glaring in his eyes. I did not know why or how. I am not sure what I did. But, I did feel in this lifetime, I owed him.

Looking at our synastry, I can understand the magnetic force that propelled me into that 16-month tumultuous relationship. We had so many aspects and learning lessons that both of us needed to experience.

I’ve learned that I will never, or at least try not to, repeat that experience. I hope to avoid attaching myself to someone whose Sun squares my Saturn. I pray not to have to endure that lesson again.

In every fiber of my being, I felt possessed.

I relied on him for the love that I couldn’t provide for myself. I recall, towards the end, he questioned if I had deceived him into the relationship. He couldn’t comprehend the intense connection we shared.

Today, I recognize some of my unconscious patterns that persist, though I make a conscious effort to integrate, evolve, and grow them. These patterns include being passive-aggressive, manipulating emotions, and employing the pull-back method, also known as push-and-pull, to gauge someone’s care.

I strive to be more transparent, disclosing my habits beforehand and explaining their reasons. However, these tendencies align with my Pisces placement in the 8th house at 0 Degrees, a trait I am not fond of. Nevertheless, I aspire to find more grounded approaches and refrain from engaging in these mind games. Yet, I find myself instinctively reacting when encountering manipulation from others.

I acknowledge that power games, power plays, and struggles are detrimental to any relationship and do not lead to success. And I strive to do better consciously.

Have you had an experience in Saturn Square Sun? If so, I would love to hear it.

Leave a Reply