Let me tell you something about the 8th house in astrology — it’s not cute, it’s not comfortable, and it’s definitely not for the faint of heart. It’s not the house of small talk. It’s the house of trauma, sex, silence, secrets, soul ties, shadow work, and everything hidden beneath the surface. It’s the quiet ache before transformation and the loud scream during rebirth. It's death — not always literal, but always meaningful. It's the slow burn of letting go and the holy fire of becoming. It will rip the surface-level version of you to shreds just so it can build you back into something stronger — more honest, more powerful, more you.
Now imagine having a bunch of your major placements shoved right in there. Sun. Mercury retrograde. Venus retrograde. Jupiter. North Node. Pluto. All in Scorpio. All except Pluto in the 8th.
So trust me when I say… this life was never going to be simple. And it was never meant to be.
Sun in Libra, 8th House (Fall Position)
My identity has always been complicated, though there’s a part of me that has always wanted harmony — that Libra Sun longs for beauty, love, peace. But being in the 8th house means that everything that should’ve been easy about identity… never has been.
For a long time, I tried to present myself as someone who had it all together. I was the supportive one, the fixer, the giver. I played the role. But deep down? I was constantly going through internal storms. My identity wasn’t just evolving — it was burning down and being rebuilt over and over again.
Every betrayal, every moment I was overlooked, every time I poured into someone who couldn’t hold me — those were mini deaths. And with each one, I met a deeper version of myself. I’ve had to figure out who I am by losing parts of myself. By shedding identities. It wasn’t until I accepted the discomfort, the instability, the raw vulnerability of this placement that I actually met myself.
I don’t identify through what I present anymore. I identify through what I’ve survived.
Mercury Retrograde in Scorpio (8th House)
I don’t process life the way others do. I dig. I sit with it. I obsess sometimes. But my mind is like a sacred cave — echoing with questions, shadow truths, and revelations.
Mercury retrograde in Scorpio means my mind is always looking underneath — under motives, under words, under energies. I don’t trust surface-level anything. I can hear a lie in the silence between your sentences. I can feel when something’s off even if you never say a word. That’s my gift, but also my burden.
Growing up, I didn’t have the language to express this. I didn’t know how to communicate what I felt until much later — through writing, reflection, and deep inner work. I journaled obsessively. I dissected people’s behavior. I read everything I could to try and understand my own mind. This Mercury makes me a natural truth-seeker. But it also means that communication has always come with layers — and sometimes silence is more powerful than words.
Now, this placement has become a superpower. I speak to people’s soul-level. I coach, guide, and mirror back to others what they can’t see in themselves. I’ve learned that it’s not about saying more. It’s about saying what matters, when it matters, and letting that truth transform people. I didn’t learn to communicate for the sake of small talk — I learned to communicate so I could survive the dark.
Venus Retrograde in Scorpio, 8th House (Detriment)
Every love story I’ve lived has changed me. Broken me. Rebuilt me. Showed me the parts of myself I didn’t want to see. They also showed me those beautiful parts that I hadn’t noticed before. I love with intensity. With hunger. With depth most people aren't ready for. And when it’s not reciprocated with the same truth — it hurts deeper. Considering the fact that my Chiron in Virgo (7th House) is sextile Venus, these two operate exactly as they should — by reflecting my deepest wounds to me like a mirror, giving me the strength to transmute that pain into a powerful lesson to use and heal others.
Love for me has never been casual. Never just on the surface or for fun. When I love, I give it my all. And for a long time, that love was deeply misunderstood, mishandled, and taken for granted. I mistook pain for passion, chaos for chemistry, and attention for devotion. But each time I got burned, I learned a little more. I stopped seeking partners who needed healing and started becoming the partner I needed. I stopped letting people project their shadows onto me and started owning mine. Now, love is a spiritual act. A soul contract. This Venus placement taught me that love isn't about control, possession, or suffering. It’s about seeing. Seeing myself fully. Seeing others clearly. And refusing to settle for anything less than sacred intimacy. And if you can’t meet me with depth, vulnerability, and truth — you can’t meet me in my rawest form.
Jupiter in Scorpio (8th House)
Jupiter is the planet of growth, abundance, and wisdom — and when you place it in the 8th house, it teaches you that your biggest blessings come after the breakdown. Jupiter here made sure that my growth has never been linear. Instead, it shows up through breakdowns, through lost jobs, through abusive relationships, through financial collapse and losing parts of myself I thought I needed.
I’ve lived through instability, generational trauma, emotional abandonment, and more mental upheaval than I ever asked for. But I’ve also rebuilt from every single one.
Bigger. Better. Wiser. Louder.
Jupiter in the 8th gives me a type of resilience that can’t be faked. It gives me the gift of turning pain into purpose. Crisis into calling, and the bigger the crisis the bigger the expansion. I’ve learned to welcome endings as invitations. To trust that when one part of me dies, another rises. Jupiter in the 8th taught me that abundance lives in the shadows — if I’m brave enough to go looking for it. And now, I teach others to hunt too.
Pluto in the 9th
Pluto in the 9th house has turned me into a philosopher of the underworld. I don’t just survive things. I study them. I extract meaning from them. I connect them to the divine.
After everything I’ve been through — especially with my parents, my upbringing, my experiences into adulthood and the constant push to be more than what I came from — I had to find something bigger than just “getting by.” That “something bigger” became my spiritual path. Astrology. Human Design. Coaching. The esoteric world gave me language for everything I had been feeling my whole life but never knew how to explain.
Pluto in the 9th is about destruction and rebuilding through higher understanding. It’s how I alchemized suffering into something sacred. How I began guiding others through the shadows — not because I had the answers, but because I knew the terrain. It’s the path of the teacher, the guide, the one who’s gone through the fire and now leads others through theirs. Through this placement, I’ve realized that my transformation isn’t just mine. It’s meant to be shared. Transmuted. Taught.
North Node in Scorpio, 8th House
This is the part that took me the longest to understand.
Having your North Node in Scorpio is one thing. But having it in the 8th house? That’s a soul contract that reads something like this:
“You will not be allowed to play small. You will not be allowed to cling to safety. You must learn to surrender. Over and over again. Until you no longer fear your own power.”
My past life energy (South Node in Taurus) wanted safety. Routine. Predictability. It clung to what was mine. But this life? I was meant to give things up. To walk away from comfort. To become someone who thrives in emotional and spiritual intensity — not in what’s easy.
And even when I’ve begged the universe to just let me rest — I always end up in another cycle of death and rebirth. And honestly? That’s where the magic happens. That’s where I rise. Stronger. Softer. Smarter. More authentic.
If you’re still reading this — you probably have some 8th house or Scorpio placements of your own. Or maybe, like me, you’ve just been through it. You’ve lost yourself and found yourself more times than you can count. You’ve carried other people’s weight. You’ve loved too deeply. You’ve tried to stay soft in a world that gave you every reason to harden.
I see you. I am you.
Let this be a reminder: You will not stay in the ashes. You are the phoenix. Your power was never lost — just waiting to be remembered. The death of one version of you makes room for a version you haven’t even dreamed up yet. You’re not broken — you’re becoming. Let your losses teach you how to love yourself better and let your intensity be the key to your purpose.
This is what I do. Through astrology, human design, and shadow integration, I help people understand their pain, their power, and their purpose.
If you're navigating your own 8th house journey and you're ready to meet your real self — the one beneath the masks, roles, and trauma — I’m ready to walk that path with you.
I offer 1:1 Transformation Coaching that meets you in the dark and helps you find your light again.
No fluff. No judgment.
Just transformation.
If you prefer to do it alone, you can always sign up for my free Starlit Self-Mastery Mini Course. I'll be here if you need me. 🫶🏾
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