8 Things I Wish I Knew About My Saturn Return
When I was approaching my Saturn Return, I was 28 years old and in fierce denial that anything was wrong. I had settled into a new career as a bodyworker. I lived comfortably in a small coastal city in New England. I was getting married to someone I was passionately in love with at the end of the year. Most of my 20’s were spent struggling with my career, my finances and my purpose—as I believe many of us do—but at 28, I really thought I had it all figured out. I finally felt a sense of security I didn’t know I had longed for.
This is what being an adult is like, I told myself.
There were several little red flags that year that something was amiss. Many times I felt my breath hitch or a shiver in my nerves. I hushed my intuition with logic and reason based on the reality I believed in, one that maintained my identity and my place in the world. Saturn had been in Sagittarius for a year an change, but the closer it got to my natal return, the more I felt like I was being stripped of my protective blinders.
The week after my wedding, the shit hit the fan. My husband and I fought a lot, bandaging our relationship with alcohol and social events, chalking it up to the old adage that the first year of marriage is the hardest. I went back to talk therapy after many years to figure out what I was doing so wrong in my life that everything was suddenly upside down. It was like someone turned the lights on and everyone around me was naked. I could see through walls. I couldn’t unsee the truths around me. I had some very unhealthy friendships, my career had plateaued, and my marriage—which validated and bolstered this created reality—was untenable. I also felt naked. The identities that had served me up until that point, the narratives I lived, were threadbare. I didn’t recognize myself.
It was another two and a half years of waking up to and integrating the lessons I learned during that time. I had long fought the imminent changes to protect my own comfort, and that slowed my progress. So as a gift to you who is reading this, and to my former self, I offer the eight things I wish I knew about my Saturn Return as I was going through it:
1. This transition is natural
In Western cultures, many of the old rights of passage between childhood and adulthood are lost. Historically this was a time of personal harvest, and there is still a great importance placed on the age of 30 in modern Western culture. Partly because of our obsession with youth, there is the idea that at 30 years old, you have gone over a hill of some sort. Young entrepreneurs hustle to be on the “30 Under 30” lists and women who are single and childless at 30 tend to get a side-eyed glance from their elders. There is little support for this transition, as we integrate the lessons of early adulthood into a stable foundation to support us for the next 30 years, when a new phase begins all over again.
I came to understand that my Saturn Return was a threshold I was going to have to cross whether I liked it or not. The longer I fought the changes, the more miserable and frustrated I became. I also realized that what I did not integrate now would be revisited, if not soon, then at the next Saturn Return when I was in my late 50’s. The idea that I would have such a struggle again was daunting and I set my mind to learning everything I could about this transition.
2. It requires surrender to the winds of change
Up until this point I had learned to get what I wanted by pushing, by tenaciously (or desperately) gripping to an idea of what would make me happy and fulfilled. Only, once I got there, what I asked for was no longer what I wanted. It took me months to learn this, accept it, and then to reconcile it. Because if I didn’t want what I thought I wanted anymore, then what in the hell did I want!?
I practiced humility. I practiced saying, “I don’t know and that’s going to have to be okay.” I still struggle with control in my own life, but I know that when I am in a great dark, or any transition, to not release my grip only hurts me in the long run.
3. It didn’t require me to burn everything down
Once I learned about a Saturn Return I thought, “This is it. Nothing will be the same, I can’t trust anything!” But that’s not completely true. It is a time of introspection for sure. A time of process. A time of relearning what to trust and what to release. Sometimes this requires a withdrawal and/or a purging, other times just saying “No.”
There were parts of my identity and my reality that no longer served me, so I wrapped them lovingly, set them aflame and sent them downriver. But there were also many parts of my former self that I still carry; like my ability to forgive, to love, and how I enjoy things. I still practice bodywork. I repaired several old friendships. My life looks completely different now than it did back then, but much of what I have was grown on the arable ground that was always there
4. I needed to reconnect with my body
I had a career as a bodyworker and I found myself disconnected from the impulses and the needs of my own body. This was crucial. I had numbed myself because feeling my feelings was scary and destabilizing. My body had become a performative tool for work, for sex, and for going between places. But when I began to give myself designated space to move freely, I gained a sense of relief and clarity that now cannot be undone. I spent the year of my natal return hiking almost every weekend. I explored my inner anatomy and subsequently my inner landscape through breath and movement. This was where I was reintroduced to my intuition.
5. I had more wisdom than I thought, it just wasn’t where I was looking
I had outgrown many of the beliefs and reasons that had validated me and served me until then. The designs that I had constructed from experience and from the advice of others were shaky at best. Even though I fancied myself an independent, I had been searching externally for someone to tell me I was doing it right, that now I am fulfilled. The answers I found throughout my Saturn Return were not given, but discovered through the exploration of myself. My connection with my intuition became stronger and my trust in myself was renewed. I dipped into my well and came up overflowing.
6. I wasn’t out of control
...although it surely felt like it sometimes. The more I surrendered to the transformation taking place, the less control I needed. And that was the greatest surprise of all. In fact, by choosing to be open, by choosing the exploration, by choosing to transform, I was gaining a stronger sense of self than I had ever had. During my split and subsequent divorce from my husband in the shadow of my Saturn Return, folks would say to me “You seem to be handling this so well! You’re so calm. You seem so good.” (A few people knew of or got to see the me that was wailing on my apartment floor because those big feelings needed space, too). But for the most part, I actually did feel very calm. I finally knew myself, and knew without a doubt that I would survive and indeed thrive thereafter.
7. I was on the right path
This was something that no one could tell me, but that I learned to hear within myself. And once it was there, it could not be dislodged. Because I had forged my own way back to who I was, and discovered the greater potential within me, there was no question. I was becoming. It would have been a far greater death to stay where I was, and I am certain that I would have had to revisit the same lessons all over again.
8. It would take time
All told, I would say that my Saturn Return process took almost three years. I fought it hard at the beginning because I feared losing what I had built up around me. Even if someone had given me the perfect prescription, it still would have taken some time. There is no quick and easy way through this transformation. Self examination is a process. Embodiment is a practice. Integration takes time. However, it would have been made far less difficult and would have saved me at least a year, if I had had the tools I do now.
Which is why I am so passionate about the subject. I wouldn’t want anyone to feel the way I did, but each experience is unique. With my guidance in your corner, though, you can be assured that you won’t navigate this transition alone. It may feel like you must leave everything behind, but there is plenty of room in the boat. You get to decide what comes and what stays on shore. I can show you how to paddle; I can help you come home to your body and your authentic self, to let it light the way ahead for you. I have come to know Saturn quite intimately and he wants you to shine, truthfully.
Take these cues if nothing else, and welcome to your Saturn Return.
