I Thought I Surrendered. I Was Still Gripping.
The Pisces lunar eclipse is illuminating what we can no longer pretend not to know.
I am currently going through a crumbling of an old identity and maybe you are too…
Not just in how I show up in my business, but in my personhood. My marriage. My sexuality. The way I relate to myself. The way I allow myself to be seen.
And lately, it feels like there is a siren song going off very loudly.
Something is asking me to listen.
Every time I have walked through an eclipse season, it has led me into some of my greatest expansions.
Not because everything magically became clearer.
But because I was asked to welcome in the parts of me that wanted to run, grip, control, or abandon myself and instead ask:
What am I being shown here?
Sometimes the answer has required the sacrifice of an old identity, a relationship and sometimes an expectation I had for how my life was supposed to look.
And sometimes, the thing being asked of me wasn't to leave at all.
It was to stay.
To lock in.
To put ten toes down and choose what mattered to me.
This is where self-trust becomes more than a pretty concept.
Because the plot of your life isn't whether another person chooses you, whether the plan works exactly as you imagined, or whether everything around you stays intact.
The deeper plot is whether you continue choosing yourself through it.
Every trigger, person, relationship, opportunity, ending, beginning, and crumbling gives us information.
Is this asking me to move?
Is this asking me to stay?
Is this asking me to speak?
Is this asking me to surrender?
Or am I simply being asked to listen for a moment without rushing to turn discomfort into a decision?
None of it is inherently good or bad. It's information.
As I reflect on what this Pisces lunar eclipse is bringing forward for me, I can see places where I thought I had surrendered but was actually still gripping.
Gripping onto old identities.
Gripping onto binary ways of thinking.
Gripping onto corporate masks and ideas of who I needed to be to be taken seriously.
Gripping onto traditional ideas of what marriage is supposed to look like.
Gripping onto versions of myself that once kept me safe but no longer give me room to breathe.
And perhaps that is part of the medicine of surrender.
Surrender isn't always letting everything go. Sometimes it's letting go of who you thought you had to be.
With Jupiter moving through Leo, I also keep feeling this invitation toward courage.
To be louder when I want to be loud.
Bold when I want to be bold.
Kind without confusing kindness for self-abandonment.
Sensitive without treating my sensitivity like weakness.
Heart-led without becoming naive.
Cleo Sol recently put language to something I have been sitting with: "I know my heart is kind but trust me I am no fool"
And THAT is the question I am carrying into this eclipse:
Where am I still playing the fool in my own life?
Where am I pretending I don't know what I know?
Where am I withholding the truth because acknowledging it might require something of me?
Where am I gripping an identity that I've already outgrown?
And where am I being invited to stop making everything mean something is wrong and simply become curious about what it is showing me?
Maybe the crumbling isn't the end of the story.
Maybe the crumbling is how we finally meet the person underneath everything we thought we had to be.
So as we move through this eclipse, I invite you to ask yourself:
What am I finally ready to be honest about?
Not what should I burn down.
Not what should I impulsively change.
But what truth has been quietly asking me to listen?
Because surrender doesn't mean abandoning yourself.
Sometimes surrender is the deepest act of self-trust there is.
xoxo,
Jessica Diana
