Instagram isn't the place for Feminine Energy

When you decide to build a heart-centered business, the natural first step often seems to be social media.

It’s the easiest route. In today's world, how can one ignore the convenience and ubiquitous presence of social platforms?

So much so that many entrepreneurs don’t even bother with a website anymore—they rely solely on Instagram.

This was my experience. When I first ventured into the world of social media to establish my presence, I meticulously crafted a visual identity. I designed and redesigned editorial calendars, calendars that demanded daily content.

Always more.

And above all, I had to put myself on display—through reels, stories, photos— constantly.

Even on days when I felt out of sync.

Even when my mind, heart, and body begged me to stop forcing a visibility that felt disconnected from where I truly was.

I began to realize there were days when I naturally wanted to show up—days that flowed effortlessly, calling me to share. Days where I wanted to put on makeup, where colors seemed brighter, my smile less forced, and the connection more fluid.

But there were also days when it was nothing like that.

Not at all.

Days when I felt like I was betraying myself—misusing and distorting something profound and sacred within me.

Something I wasn’t ready to share on a public stage.

I started to question myself. Was there something wrong with me?

After all, everyone else seemed to embrace this path. Everyone plays the social media game.

It’s practically required of anyone aspiring to be an entrepreneur—therapists, coaches, artisans, naturopaths, entrepreneurs—all without exception.

It’s the unwritten rule: you must participate in the ritual of visibility.

Offer your image up for auction to the highest bidder.

Freeze your thoughts and fragments of yourself into a sterile, curated feed for eternity.

So, in an effort to fit the mold, I signed up for courses.

Courses on visibility, social media strategies, self-confidence, and the ever-elusive "entrepreneurial mindset."

And I kept forcing myself.

Day after day, to be visible.

There were moments when I couldn’t take it anymore.

I deleted a good portion of my content, unable to stand the sight of that frozen smile, those inauthentic gestures, the remnants of a self that no longer represented me when I revisited my feed.

Some coaches would tell me, “That’s just your ego talking.”

I understood their point, but still, I knew deep down that I was betraying a significant part of who I am.

As I began to talk with other women entrepreneurs, forging connections,

I discovered I wasn’t alone.

They, too, found this game of visibility to be the hardest part. Beyond the usual challenges of entrepreneurship—uncertain invoices, discovery calls that didn’t convert, the instability of the profession…

The most exhausting aspect was this relentless chase for visibility, for likes, for engagement.

Because it’s not just about showing up.

It’s about baring your soul in the hope of receiving validation.

Offering your face to the crowd, raw and unfiltered.

"Here is my face, take it, it’s free."

After four years of navigating the winding roads of entrepreneurship, I finally stepped away.

I came to understand, at the deepest level, that this path would never feel right for me.

I no longer wish to play this game.

Maybe it doesn’t resonate with you anymore, either.

Yet, you don’t want to abandon what you truly love.

Your gifts, your talents, the vision you originally set out to manifest.

If you're seeking a new path, one more aligned with your feminine energy, I invite you to stay here.

There are ways forward that won’t require you to force, betray, or constantly compromise the essence of who you are.

Hileï

Awakening the Wild Woman: The North Node in Aries

The North Node in Aries urges us to embody the "woman who runs with the wolves," a fearless force that defies norms and conventions.

Having yielded to the pressure of conformity for too long, this woman has fragmented her authenticity into digestible pieces for the world around her.

Her anger, rooted in this self-denial, manifests in her body—tired of shrinking, of making herself ever smaller, ever thinner, as if to disappear from public view.

The North Node in Aries claims its rightful space, unconcerned with meeting imposed expectations. It invites a powerful awakening, a bold rebellion, a fiery dance of liberation.

To become this woman who runs with the wolves, we must first navigate the South Node in Libra and relinquish the balance we once clung to—born from conditioning but now too polished, like a stone worn smooth over time.

To run with the wolves, we must have experienced the stillness at the other end of the spectrum, to fully appreciate the beauty of this wild race we have long yearned for.

Of Shells and Shadows: The Eternal Dance of Cancer

Cancer, a creature of both water and sand, is known for its sideways gait, as if forever sidestepping adversity while snapping its claws at anyone who dares threaten its safety or that of its loved ones.

Its hard, rugged shell serves as a formidable defense against external threats, shielding the deep emotional vulnerability within. Cancer fiercely protects its immediate circle, as though its very survival depends on it.

In Ancient Greece, Juno, wife of Jupiter, sent a giant crab to bite Hercules' foot, hoping to thwart his victory over the Hydra. Though Hercules triumphed, the crab earned Juno's eternal gratitude and a place among the constellations in the heavens.

Cancer’s lineage also stretches back to Egyptian mythology, where it was symbolized by the sacred scarab, and to Babylon, where a strange creature named Allul took the form of a turtle. Throughout history, the motif of a shell-bearing protector has followed Cancer, a testament to its enduring symbolism.

These creatures seem to represent a bridge between the realms of life and death, much like the mother who, in giving life, also renders us mortal.

Cancer ushers in the summer solstice, the "stagnant sun," when the Sun lingers lazily in the sky, stretching the daylight into the night.Under Cancer’s influence and the guidance of the Moon, we confront our vulnerabilities, dependencies, and mortal nature. Like the Moon, ever-changing, we reemerge into the world repeatedly, imposing our rhythms upon life and everything within it.

Do you feel like you possess the soul of a Cancer?

Scorpio: Beneath the Veil of Mystery

Dear Scorpios, I understand you. This isn’t an attempt to channel de Gaulle, but rather a sincere expression of compassionate understanding. I’ve come to realize how hard it is to see yourself in these exaggerated astrological portrayals, filled with increasingly scandalous depictions of the darkness within, of drama, death, and sex... no less. Why do they paint such a provocative picture of us?

In Ancient Greece, Orion, the son of Neptune, was slain by Hera’s Scorpion, as she sought to humble this proud giant, so full of his own battle prowess.

In Ancient Egypt, Selket, the Scorpion goddess, served as both protector of the dead and guardian of tombs, with her great wings spread wide, shielding souls on their final journey.

Emerging from the depths of its murky underworld, the Scorpion is a creature feared for its sting, capable of paralyzing its foes or delivering an even deadlier blow. Yet, when the Scorpion strikes, like the bee, it perishes in the same act. In defending itself and its loved ones, the Scorpion makes the ultimate sacrifice—a symbolic gesture of profound beauty. Beautiful, isn’t it? Though, truthfully, you probably need to be a Scorpio to fully appreciate it.

Scorpios possess an intuition unmatched by others, sensing your every move and thought—even those you haven't yet dared to form. What some interpret as anxiety or suspicion, the Scorpio perceives as a kind of ultrasonic radar, able to detect the unseen and unspoken.

Scorpios are often silent because words fail them; they can never be dense, precise, or true enough to capture the depths of their soul.

Sometimes withdrawn, they reject superficiality and the social niceties they disdain.

Dear Scorpio friends, I see you through the limbo of your nebulous, branching thoughts and intricate doubts.

To the other signs, please forgive my bias! 😘

Capricorn’s Ascent: The Quiet Pursuit of Destiny

For Capricorn, life is a serious endeavor, not to be taken lightly. A bit of laughter, of course, and some indulgence here and there, but never at the expense of what they truly aspire to: ascension, consistency, and success.

This solitary soul allows itself rest only after having tirelessly worked toward the grand plans it is destined to achieve.

Ruled by Saturn, Capricorn embodies time, discipline, self-denial, limitations, and merit. It stands as the paternal, conservative, and didactic figure of the Zodiac. Yet, behind this stern exterior lies a great deal of introspection and doubt. And it is precisely with such individuals that one can often feel the safest and most trusted. As for those who have never doubted, never reflected upon themselves or others, I wonder how they continue moving forward so effortlessly.

In Greek mythology, Capricorn is linked to the god Pan, half-man, half-goat, who had a passion for music and played the flute. When Pan fell in love with a nymph who rejected him, he transformed her into a flute so he could play her at will.

Capricorn is also symbolized by a goat, and in Babylonian mythology, it was depicted as a creature that was half-goat, half-fish, representing the god Ea. Ea lived in the seas beneath the Earth, emerging each day to share his wisdom and knowledge with humanity, before retreating to the depths at night.

It is often said (perhaps in a rather traditional way) that behind every great man, there is a woman. I believe that behind every great person, there is a bit of Capricorn—working long and diligently to help them reach the pinnacle of their ambitions.

Gemini: Beneath the Shifting Mask

What is Gemini truly hiding? So often labeled as changeable, versatile, and inconsistent. What lies beneath the torrents of words, the endless questions, and the deep connections that seem to vanish overnight, leaving them in an equally absolute solitude?

To me, it feels as though they are magicians, casting spells with their words, weaving intricate webs like a spider, entrapping me in their charm, until I’m lost—unsure of the way in or out.

What is Gemini trying to conceal behind these words, flung like illusionist tricks?

What Gemini truly hides is fear.

This supposed duality masks an identity so vast, even they are unsure where it begins or ends, an uncertainty that continuously agitates and unsettles them.

The depths of this identity run so deep that it feels safer to remain on the surface—to fend off the quiet, gnawing distress by keeping busy, by engaging with the world in a fleeting, playful manner. Those who have never known the clutch of anxiety, that relentless, tightening anguish within, may be quick to cast judgment.

So, if Gemini leaves you feeling confused and lost with their ever-shifting, seemingly carefree behavior, know that they are asking themselves the very same questions about their own nature. Gemini is fragile, and if they pull away just when you think you’ve grasped them, it is to protect themselves—not only from you but, most of all, from themselves.

Let us extend more compassion to this Gemini, who carries within them the knowledge of the world, a Sartrean existentialism, constantly questioning the status quo.

Yet the counterpart to this magnificent intellect is a visceral, primal fear—the fear of disappearing, of losing their ungraspable identity, the very essence of the 3rd house, which they so fiercely seek to defend. Paradoxically, it is an identity built on connection, both fraternal and interdependent.