SPECIAL NOTES: excess dualities—cardinal fire, fixed water, Gemini. Is she complex or is she split?
RINI
Eden steps into the study and I can feel the rage vibrating off her. I’m not scared, nor do I feel compelled to make small talk or calm her down. All I need to do is sit here with my regulated nervous system, and her senses will self-correct. Sitting in the chair across from me, her whole body leans toward the door. She stares over my shoulder into the rows of leather-bound books behind me, but I can tell she’s listening rather than seeing.
“You won’t catch any dinner party chatter from here,” I say, knowing my study is the only room with no vent or dumbwaiter connection to any other part of the house. “And no one out there will hear what you say either.”
Eden lets out a calming exhale and centers herself in the chair to face me.
“There’s something about Margot’s flavor of traditional that triggers me,” Eden starts.
I nod, always happy to take conversational direction from a guest. “That’s the transit of Mars through your first house of identity. You’re playing with new ideas you were once afraid to look at. You’re ready to take action on the things that set you off,” I say.
Eden leans forward in her chair, her nodding fervent. “She’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. She works like a feminist, talks like a feminist, but the more time I spend with her, I see the way her codependence with her brother has infected her entire worldview. She’s so enmeshed with the patriarchy that she can’t see herself apart from it.”
“Like a fish who doesn’t know what water is,” I say.
“Meanwhile from what I can tell, Adam’s trauma has made him dependent on his sister, such that he holds the matriarchy sacred. Margot is always talking about his over-the-top romantic gestures, from his first promposal to his engagement. He’s the kind of traditional that the world needs more of, rather than Margot’s poison. And the thought of her trying so hard to have children, to pass along her gross family values, it set me off.”
“Any notion of traditional offends you,” I say. “You’ve got thought leader and rebel all over your chart. On top of the Aries Sun, your chart is a classic splay formation.”
“Really? I was born like that?”
“You can handle multiple lovers, and you prefer it this way.” I say this with no judgment, and no voyeuristic curiosity either. A flat affect is gold for an astrologer.
“You can see that in my chart?”
“Your seventh house in Sagittarius demands freedom. You like to explore, and that’s not simply about traveling the world or some such.”
Eden shakes her head. “I promised I’d come into this reading with an open mind, but I didn’t think you’d read my deepest thoughts. Rick and I have been polyamorous from the beginning.”
Eden explains that they were both single when they met, but according to her, it was not by choice. It was because everyone they became involved with expected a monogamous relationship, and that led to the early expiration of good chemistry.
They were fed up with others wanting to tie them down, but also feeling the pressure to give in to monogamy—or at least the appearance of it—to have a shot at love. And then they found each other. Two people who wanted to be in a committed primary relationship, who were secure enough to let their partners, and themselves, remain open to other connections. It’s the most compelling case for polyamory I’ve ever heard. And so refreshing, given the number of straight cheaters who ask me for guidance on whether they should choose their spouse or their lover.
“We got married six weeks after the day we met. What else did we need to know? It seemed beyond perfect,” Eden concludes. I can see—on her chart and on her face—that there’s more to the story.
“But right now there is opposition between Venus the planet of connection, and your Venus placement. Your expansive view of partnership is being challenged.”
“Well, his name isn’t Venus, but opposition, yes. We met at a wedding. He was wearing a tux, and for someone who hates tradition, you’d be surprised how riled up that gets me.”
“You don’t hate tradition; you want to make your own rules. And if tuxes get you going, then that’s your thing.”
“You could tell he knew it too. In his mind he was James Bond, both hot and cool. But after two minutes of conversation, it was plain to see that he could never stab a spy with a hotel pen. He wore his heart on his sleeve, at least with me. Don’t get me wrong, he was hot enough to be James Bond, but there was a soft vulnerability. A boy in need of love.”
“I don’t see the issue, though. This seems ideal, or at least exactly what you signed up for with your husband.”
“It could be. It should be. It would be, if it weren’t for me.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Rick and I have rules. Rules as to who we get involved with, how we handle the new person, what we do for the primary partner. I’ve broken them all.”
“Eden, why are you here? What can I help with?”
“I need a sign. Do I come clean to Rick?”
I’m not someone who believes in blindly telling the truth. Even when it sounds plain and clear, “the truth” is often murky and has unpredictable effects.
Come clean.
I have repeatedly held back important information from the people I love most. It can be safer to keep it inside. It can also be disastrous. I need to press Eden to think about which outcome is more likely for her.
“That’s your free will. There’s nothing in your chart that can answer that. So I’ll ask the obvious question—why haven’t you come clean already?”
“If I tell Rick, he’ll put a stop to it immediately. When I imagine that conversation, I see Rick as one of the people I was trying to get away from when I married him. Someone who is going to impose his will over me, deny me what I want to do.”
“But you both agreed to the rules.”
“And we’d both broken rules before, but we keep each other honest. That’s a vital part of polyamory, the openness of it. Now I’m just a plain old cheater.”
“And yet the solution is simple. You can put an end to this deception in several ways,” I say.
“There’s something inside me that can’t do it. I know I should, and yet…”
“And yet, what?” I repeat.
Eden and I have been so conversational and connected that I struggle to keep my frustration locked away. Eden gets to choose. She gets to make mistakes and try to correct them. I no longer have those luxuries.
