Isn't She Lovely?
Devotion Diaries 040: Saturn’s Soft Side & the Labels That Never Fit
📸 Today’s post is a visual love letter to the life I’m slowly blooming into. Enjoy <3
Today’s cosmic frequency? Saturday — ruled by Saturn.
The daddy planet..
The karmic professor.
The one who’ll snatch your wig and hand you a diploma in “you should’ve known better.”
And whew, did I feel it.
Even as the tides began turning this week — momentum building, ideas sprouting, beauty blooming — there was an undertow of doubt.
The low hum of “Am I showing up as the right version of me?”
And: “Am I wasting my youth by staying in tonight? Or sabotaging my future by going out?”
Two questions.
Both identity crisis–adjacent.
Both spiraling down a Saturnian rabbit hole of what does it all mean.
🌊 Welcome to Devotion Diaries 040 —
Where I toss out a question to life and see what she shows me…
and i think it might to be a good time to explain the number thing going on with my posts.
Truth is, I’ve always been drawn to numbers (see below for supporting evidence)
But…
Not math (i barely passed Calc, but shoutout to my professor who told me I didn’t know arithmetic.
I smiled bc I didn’t know what that meant 💀
(needless to say, I was cooked.)
but he didn’t have to say all of that.
though….he wasn’t wrong.
Because I loved theories. Frameworks. Patterns. I geeked out on them.
But when it came time to actually apply them and get to the answer?
I’d fumble.
Looking back now — damn, that was 12 years ago —
I can see the gold in what he said:
“You’ve got the framework down. You’re sharp. Your mind loves concepts.
But your foundations aren’t solid.
No matter how great the thing is you’re building on top — it won’t stick.
It won’t ground. The foundation is everything.”
Paraphrasing, of course — but wild that my brain can recall that memory and not where I put my damn charger….
interesting.
At the time, I thought: “Okay, whatever, nerd.”
But now? Pretty, accurate read. (damn still…I got got. smh.)
But for the last time!!!!
Maybe that’s why I number these posts — to track the pattern of my unfolding.
To keep score of the days I chose devotion over dissociation.
And today?
Was a big one.
⚔️ Inner Tussle of the Day: Don’t Push Me.
With my natal Saturn in Pisces — sitting right in my 1st house — I’ve been in a 2.5-year detox from illusion.
A tearing down of the expired truths I built my identity around:
Labels I wore like armor
Versions of me I curated to stay palatable, lovable, safe
Stories I inherited and never thought to question
And now?
Even hearing the word “labels” makes my body want to just…
Just typing it makes me want to square up — at every projection ever placed on me,
Every mold I was asked to shrink into,
Every role I accepted just to be accepted.
Because for so long, I constructed myself to fit —
Into spaces.
Into expectations.
Into archetypes:
The funny friend.
The emotional one.
The sleepy one who says “I need a nap” every three hours.
The chill girl who’s “down for whatever” (but like… I am curious, what do you have in mind?)
The one who holds space for everyone else —
While quietly wishing someone would hold it for her.
Even in how I operate, I’ve juggled identities like a damn Cirque du Soleil act:
The ambitious girl boss sprinting toward burnout
The tender creative who takes on your to-do list and your trauma
The “clock out at 5” girl who just wants peace, a check, and no Slack messages after 6
So today, in the middle of spiraling, I caught my own reflection in the mirror.
And something new came through.
jk lmao, but it was..
A voice.
Self-assured.
Deep.
And pretty damn convincing… (charming, if I do say so myself).
“Stop thinking only about yourself.”
😐 EXCUSE ME?
ain’t shit funny no more.
But she wasn’t dragging me.
She was inviting me to expand.
To stop building solely from my fears.
To stop shrinking the dream to fit what I already know.
To stop letting my past self steer a life that’s just beginning to blossom.
Because sometimes, I self-sabotage not because I don’t believe in the dream —
but because I hold it too tightly.
So tightly, it can’t breathe.
And Saturn — in all her tough love — reminded me today:
🌀 The more I grip the dream, the less room there is for expansion.
🌀 The more I try to recreate my old life inside the new, the more it starts to feel like someone else’s again.
So I did the thing.
I got dressed.
I stepped outside.
I let the air kiss my face.
And life whispered: Finally. You’re back.
👯♀️ Group Therapy IRL
Our group chat is literally called Group Therapy, and if that’s not divine foreshadowing, I don’t know what is.
We met up to send off our lovely friend Ryan (an actual angel in human form) before her move, and for a few hours?
I felt it.
The thing I forgot I was missing.
The magic of being held by people who make you feel safe in your presence.
Where I wasn’t the “funny one” or the “deep one” — I was just… me.
So Ryan, thank you.
You’re truly a gem bb
(frfr)
And to my friends in Group Therapy™
thank you for reminding me what really matters. (photo creds - callen <3)
✍️ Devotion Quest of the Day
🧭 Identify the people who make you feel safe in their presence.
💌 Reach out. Thank them.
🌱 Then ask yourself: What if that safety became your new foundation?
📸 The Walk That Took Me Back
I moved out of Williamsburg a while ago, but every time I’m back, something in me softens.
It was the first place that felt like mine.
My first real connection to home.
My first apartment where the furniture felt like a reflection.
My first neighbors that knew my name.
My first real community in NYC.
Each time I come back, I feel it all over again…
Despite how shaky my foundation was when I first moved to NYC, I only have fond memories of that little apartment.
The silly sidewalk art.
The oddly symbolic signs.
The way the water held me when life got too loud.
The long walks that helped me piece myself back together.
Funny enough — the very first time I came to Williamsburg, I wasn’t even living here yet.
I was still in Chicago, just visiting a friend.
I told her, “I could see myself here.”
She looked at me and said, “Why do you think I brought you?”
Fast forward to now.
I did live that vision.
And now, even though I’ve moved on physically, something about it still feels like mine.
💌 there’s still magic in the mirror
Because this time…
I’m walking through with clarity.
With roots.
With a version of me that finally feels real.
As I scrolled through today’s photos — the weird-ass signs, the glowing water, the bridge that’s seen a million versions of me — I felt proud.
Because I’m no longer building a life from projections or pleasing.
I’m building it from devotion.
From trust.
From the refusal to shrink just to be easier to digest.
So yes, if I see a street label? Best believe I’m reading it.
And if I find a meme that captures the moment? I’m posting it immediately. 😂
📸 Check out today’s photo carousel and tell me which one hit — each one’s got a little bit of my soul in it.
And to the girl who once thought she had to shape-shift to be lovable?
Look around.
You’re loved as is.
You’re blooming.
And you’re right on time.
💭 Labels are flimsy.
Devotion? Forever.
🪧 (But if I had to wear one? “Adrenaline Sommelier in Recovery.”)
With love,
— Devotion Diaries 💌
….and while I have you…
have you heard my latest mix —-
if not…
check it out here :)
