05/10/2025 - The constant need to curate how I appeared.

I’m writing in the morning for a change because today I can. It’s my day off. To be honest, I don’t really know what to do except my laundry, wash my hair, and chill around. But I guess that’s the whole point.

I woke up around 7am, stayed in bed for a while, scrolled a bit, went down for a coffee, called my dad with a terrible connection because he just moved to Gili Meno, and now… what?

This afternoon, I want to meditate and stretch. To take the time to care for my body and be present in this luteal phase. I told my dad how wild it is to edit my writings a week later and see my menstrual cycle mirrored in them. It makes me want to map it out more consciously, to create something from it. I’ve read books about reconnecting to the womb, and I truly believe that understanding our cycles is one of the most powerful ways to reclaim femininity. But beyond that, it could change the way we relate to others too.

Imagine if our partners could better understand how our hormones shape our moods, desires, and emotions from day to day. They could learn to adapt instead of taking it personally. Women could lean into themselves without guilt, and men could feel more capable, useful, and supportive. There would be less confusion, less projection. Just more harmony and flow.

Anyway, it’s another one of my ideas. Maybe I’ll create something out of it one day, maybe not. Last night, I woke up with a rare feeling of rest and comfort in myself, as if something heavy had finally lifted from my shoulders, the need to be validated, understood, or to control the narrative. In its place: freedom, ease, and space to simply exist.

I always knew that showing up authentically, daring to share more of my truth, would open something inside me. But knowing and doing are two very different things. It took me embarking on a five-week, 800-kilometer solo pilgrimage to fully step into it.

Now I’m sitting alone in my hotel room, listening to an Indian playlist, hearing the bells of the church around the corner, sunlight pouring through the little alcoves under the roof. It feels like my own secret nook in the world. Peaceful.

For years, I tried to understand where my discomfort with self-expression came from, the constant need to curate how I appeared. And I’ve slowly been peeling those layers off: first with my close friends, then my family, then authority figures at work. Then came the groups I wanted to belong to. And finally, the final boss: men I admired. This small portion of humanity had such a grip on me, it’s almost absurd.

I always knew it, but never realized how deep it went. Writing about it, thinking about it, releasing it, daring to share even when it felt uncomfortable, that has been one of the most liberating things I’ve ever done.

I believe we all come into life with a range of natural abilities, our dharma, and a set of challenges, our karma. The goal is to grow through both, to follow what expands us and face what scares or limits us, because that’s where the transformation lies.

For me, my dharma has always been communication, the ability to translate my inner world into words. But my karma was the shame surrounding those very experiences. Maybe it began in childhood, from classmates’ rejection. Or in adolescence, from boys who couldn’t understand me. Maybe even in past lives, punished for speaking truth or knowing too much. Probably a mix of it all.

I’ve been working with my birth chart for nine years now, and I have both Saturn and my South Node in the 11th house, the house of community, belonging, and social perception. Saturn is limitation, karma, discipline; the South Node, our attachment to the past and the fears we must overcome. So it’s no coincidence that my greatest lessons come through other people’s perceptions of me, or my fear of them.

Now, during my Saturn return (if you were born between April 1996 and June 1998, welcome to the club), I can feel that story transforming. Saturn in Aries teaches sovereignty, learning to stand tall without depending on others for validation. If you know your chart, look where your Saturn sits; it shows the area of life where your freedom will only come through deep responsibility. It’s not easy, but it’s beautiful.

Right now, I feel aligned. With who I am, where I’m going, and what’s next. I have so many ideas, so many projects, but I remind myself that there is time. A whole lifetime to explore everything my curiosity wants to experience.

It’s been exactly four weeks since I started this journey, and I can hardly believe it. When I look back at the version of me who lay in bed in Saint-Jean and compare her to the one writing this now (brace yourself for the cliché), I’ve changed. For the better, and for the truer.

And it makes me so happy. I love me. I love my little world. And you’re invited in it, as long as you bring your world too, so we can expand them together.

With love, Loune.