The Space Between Selves
A dark feminist blog exploring goddess mythology, modern womanhood, and female power through poetry, essays, and literary analysis. Along with some reviews of books I love.
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Being a Scorpio
♏ I AM A SCORPIO. AND I AM FINALLY EMBRACING HER. 🖤
For years, I buried parts of myself to make other people comfortable. I softened my intensity, questioned my intuition and became the person others wanted me to be.
Somewhere along the way, I forgot who I was.
But darkness has a way of revealing what was always there.
I am passionate. Fiercely loyal. Independent. Intuitive. Resilient. I crave deep conversations, meaningful connections and a love that doesn't ask me to become smaller.
I am also guarded, stubborn, intense and sometimes unforgiving. My shadow is as much a part of me as my light. And I'm learning to embrace both.
I've walked through fire, survived my own darkness and emerged changed. Perhaps that's why the phoenix speaks so deeply to my soul.
I am no longer interested in being palatable. I won't apologise for my depth, my boundaries or the walls I've built to protect my peace.
My loyalty is earned. My trust is precious. My heart is not open to everyone.
And if I choose to let you into my world, understand what a privilege that is.
I spent too many years abandoning myself to keep others.
Not anymore.
I am not becoming a different woman. I am remembering the woman I was always meant to be.
The Scorpio within me is rising.
And this time, she's staying. 🦂🔥
Embrace the Scorpio. Embrace the shadows. Embrace yourself.
The Touch Starved Scorpio
To be a touch-starved Scorpio is to carry fire beneath still water.
To look composed while quietly aching for connection.
Not for attention. Not for fleeting affection.
But for the kind of touch that feels safe. True. Anchoring.
Scorpios do not crave many hands.
They crave the right ones.
When touch is missing, they turn inward.
Into ritual. Into writing. Into candlelit nights and secret prayers.
They learn to hold themselves when no one else is there.
But beneath the armour lives a simple truth:
“I want to be held. And I want it to mean something.” 🦂🕯️