How to Survive Retrogrades: A Conversation with Who You Used to Be

(because it's not you reacting – it's your field remembering)

Saturn goes backward. Your ex slides into your DMs. Your body cries for no reason at 3 AM. Welcome to retrograde hell, darling, where your past returns like a zombie apocalypse, except instead of brains, it wants your inner peace. 🧟‍♀️

But here's the cosmic tea nobody tells you: Retrogrades aren't the problem. They're the invitation.

Not the cute kind with fancy cardstock and RSVP cards. The kind that shows up at your door uninvited, soaking wet, mascara running, demanding you deal with shit you thought you'd already buried in therapy.

The Universe Has Terrible Timing (And Perfect Reasons)

Of course this happens right when you finally feel like you've got your life together. Universe has the comedic timing of a drunk stand-up comedian – always knows the worst possible moment to drop the punchline.

That phone call at midnight? It's from a number you deleted years ago. And on the other end of that line? Her. The old you. The one who sobbed in bathroom mirrors. Whose body shook with powerlessness. Who believed she had to endure anything because who else would love someone so... broken?

Yeah. That bitch is calling.

And retrogrades? They're her cosmic amplifier.

Your Body Keeps the Receipts (All of Them)

Listen, love, that version of yourself you think you've "outgrown"? HAH. Your body keeps her filed away like Netflix keeps every season of your life. And when retrograde energy hits that cosmic PLAY button: game over. It's like your subconscious decided to throw a surprise party for every version of you that ever ugly-cried in a Starbucks bathroom, and guess what? They all showed up wearing the same emotional outfit.

In Field Language: 🌊 Your emotional body carries the imprint of every version of you that never got to finish her sentence. They live as shadows in your tissue, waiting. And when the sky dances its backward steps, that's the energetic signal:

"Unlock that layer again. But this time – with presence."

Because back then, you didn't know what you know now. You didn't have the frequency of breath you have now. You couldn't hold space for your own breaking.

But now? Now you fucking can.

The Retrograde Resurrection: July Through October

From July through October, we're entering a four-month resurrection of fragmented selves:

🔱 Neptune retrograde in Aries: It's like God decided to play your entire emotional playlist on shuffle while you're trying to buy tampons at Target. Suddenly you're crying in aisle 7 because the Charmin toilet paper reminds you of that time in third grade when Jessica said your art project looked like a potato.

⛰️ Saturn retrograde in Aries: This is like your dad coming back from getting cigarettes after 20 years, except instead of cigarettes, he went to get your childhood trauma and now he's standing in your kitchen at 3 AM asking why you never learned to love yourself properly.

🌟 Chiron retrograde in Aries: The cosmic therapist who shows up uninvited to your pity party with receipts from every time you said "I'm fine" while internally screaming into the void.

All these versions carry the same devastating theme: "Who am I when I'm not strong? When I'm confused? When I can't?"

And honey, they're about to knock on your energetic door with suitcases full of unprocessed feelings.

The Art of Cosmic Customer Service

So when that pain surfaces: the one that smells like 2018's heartbreak or that 2011 version who felt too broken to deserve breath, know this: that's not you. That's her.

That version of you who's still waiting to be heard. She's basically that friend who shows up at your door with wine and trauma at 2 AM because Mercury is in microwave and she needs to process her entire dating history through interpretive crying.

Your job isn't to ignore her (spoiler alert: she'll scream louder). Your job isn't to hand her the wheel either (hello, regression spiral).

Your job is to sit beside her like the wise elder sister you've become and say:

"I see you, sweetheart. I know how much it hurt. But I'm not you anymore. And everything you learned, I need that now. Tell me. What broke your heart, and how do I heal you?"

And then, here's the cosmic plot twist, don't believe her pain. Believe her wisdom.

What's Actually Happening in Your System

🌌 The imprint of your former self activates in your Field when some external trigger touches that emotional memory
💧 Your body reacts as if it's still there, still her, still trapped
🌀 If you're not present, you identify with it. You become her again, spinning the same old loop
🌿 If you ARE present, you recognize it's an echo, not your current self. Then you get to choose:

→ Conversation instead of reaction
→ Presence instead of regression
→ Creation instead of repetition

The Retrograde Ritual: Your New Survival Kit

When the retrograde wave crashes over you (and it will), try this:

"Welcome back, love. I know you came to remind me who I'm no longer... and who I'm ready to become."

Take what's true from her story. Take the lessons, the strength forged in fire, the compassion born from breaking. But leave the suffering at the door.

Let the rest dissolve into breath. Into movement. Into earth. Into ocean.

Because that version of you who couldn't hold her own weight? She was preparing you to hold the weight of your own becoming.

The Cosmic Truth Bomb

Every retrograde is a spiritual software update. Painful? Absolutely. Necessary? Like oxygen.

Your past selves aren't haunting you, they're upgrading you.

So next time you feel that familiar ache, that old story trying to hijack your nervous system, remember: You're not regressing. You're integrating. You're not broken. You're becoming.

And the woman you're becoming? She's been waiting for this conversation her whole life.

Welcome to your retrograde resurrection, beautiful. The phoenix is about to remember how to fly. 🔥✨

Ready to become the cosmic detective of your own soul? The real magic happens when you start digging... 🕵️‍♀️✨