"What if the void I’ve been afraid of is actually my most fertile ground?"
Three readers on their Saturn Return.
Among both professional astrologers and skeptics alike, the Saturn Return is one of the most talked-about transits: a time of great initiation, clearing, and major, seemingly inevitable, transformation. For those of us born between ~1997–99 (and ~1967-69; check your exact birthday here), this transit officially begins tomorrow, February 13th, as Saturn re-enters Aries, where it will stay until 2028. Next Friday, February 20th (three days after the Lunar New Year), Saturn will conjunct Neptune at 0 degrees — a transit that many are calling the Great Reset. Suffice it to say, change is in the air.
Our first Saturn Return generally marks a time of great maturation, when one fully enters the rungs of adulthood. Saturn is the planet of tough love, of accountability; the “Dweller on the Threshold,” writes Alice Bailey in Esoteric Astrology, “who tests the soul before it can pass into the higher mysteries.” The fog of youth begins to lift. Our coping mechanisms no longer work. We’re forced to take a cold, hard look at how we’ve been choosing to live our lives; to face the areas we’ve been avoiding, the structures we’ve built out of pure survival — not necessarily because we want to, but because we have no other choice.1
Note: For specifics, I’d recommend consulting a professional astrologer; see our thread in the subscriber chat for recommendations.
There’s a lot more I could say here, but in true Health Gossip fashion, I figured it best to chat with those who have direct experience.
Below, three readers reflect on their own Saturn Returns: what it taught them, how their natal placements influenced the journey, and their advice for those with Saturn in Aries.
Given the number of responses, this will be a multi-part series, with a few different issues released during the first weeks of Saturn in Aries. I hope it serves you.
Charlotte Spencer Jackson
Charlotte Spencer Jackson is a writer and holistic nutritionist based in East Sussex, England, where she spends much of her time tending to her plot of land. Read more on her Substack, Here, We Tend.
What were your expectations going into your Saturn Return? On a scale of 1-10, how invested were you in Western astrology?
I wasn’t as invested in astrology in my late 20s as I am now. In hindsight, I wish I’d paid more attention! I knew Saturn Return was a rite of passage, but I didn’t fully grasp how transformational it could be, or how deeply it could rearrange a life. At the time, astrology felt interesting but surface-level — something I was aware of, rather than something I was consciously working with.
It was really through lived experience and a constant what the fuck is going on?! feeling during my Saturn Return that I began to study astrology more closely. Learning that I was in the middle of this huge, archetypal life transition gave language to what I was already living through in my body and nervous system. It wasn’t until I sat down with some close friends, who are astrology whizzes, that it felt like a mirror being held up to my life at that moment. I’d say it was about midway through my Saturn Return that I truly adopted astrology, and since then it’s become a powerful tool — helping me make sense of the chaos and navigate the twists and turns of life with more trust and perspective.
What house is your natal Saturn in? How did these themes play out during this period?
My natal Saturn is in the sixth house, and those themes played out with almost textbook precision. My Saturn Return arrived through health, work, and daily structure. Almost overnight, I went from being a social, busy, fun-loving girl in her 20s to being basically bed-bound with post-viral fatigue, and it stripped away everything in my life as I knew it. I’d spent most of my late teens and twenties as a type-A overachiever and perfectionist, running on adrenaline and convinced I was invincible, so what followed felt like a major death / Tower tarot moment — a complete ego death, identity crisis, dismantling, and starting over.
The peak hedonistic experiences my identity had been built around couldn’t last forever.
At the time, I was working in what I thought was my dream job in the music industry while also running a business on the side, and looking back I can see just how burnt out I was and how deep in denial I’d been. I was a yes person, saying yes to plans, opportunities, and requests when my body was saying a firm no. At first those signals were gentle and easy to ignore, but the more I pushed through, the louder they became, until eventually enough was enough. Just as my Saturn Return began, burnout, illness, and nervous system collapse forced me to confront the way I was living and working in a very real way.
What were some of the most unexpected or surprising moments?
The most unexpected part was how completely my brain chemistry shifted. Before my Saturn Return, my identity was tied to being the life and soul of the party. The idea of a weekend doing nothing sounded unbearably boring. And while I still love music and dancing, my idea of fun has done a complete 180. I never thought I’d be the kind of person who treasures nine hours of sleep over working late or partying, but here I am. And even though I sometimes pine for my younger self’s fearless, hedonistic approach to life, I now know what’s actually aligned for me.
Reaching a point of extreme burnout forced me to stop and rest, to take a hard look at where my energy was going and which friendships were no longer healthy or sustainable. I became mostly sober during this period — not because I had a “problem” with substances, but because I could see that the peak hedonistic experiences my identity had been built around couldn’t last forever. I quit my job and spent most days in bed recovering from illness, and during that time I had what I can only describe as an awakening: the realization that I’d been living in deep misalignment, and that I’m actually a very sensitive soul who values slowness, solitude, and softness.
When we’re off course, we’re given gentle nudges at first. If we ignore them, those nudges get louder.
That came with a wave of grief. I missed the carefree, risk-taking version of myself who seemed to bounce back from everything. Over time, that grief softened into gratitude, and a sense of relief that I’m no longer living like that — alongside admiration for my younger self, who was fearless, alive, and fully in the moment, not worrying about her HRV or sleep score!
What were some of your biggest takeaways? How has your life changed?
My Saturn Return was an absolute doozy, but my biggest takeaway is that Saturn isn’t here to punish; it’s here to clarify. It stripped away what wasn’t aligned and forced me to look at my life without the stories or bravado I’d relied on for years. Looking back, I can see just how out of alignment I was living, even when things appeared good from the outside. I’ve come to believe that the universe wants the best for us, and so do our bodies, which carry deep intelligence. When we’re off course, we’re given gentle nudges at first: subtle signals, resistance, fatigue. If we ignore them, those nudges get louder. My Saturn Return felt extreme because I ignored those signals for too long.
The biggest lessons for me have been to spend time really getting to know myself, stop people-pleasing (it pleases no one), stop shrinking myself, stop living so apologetically, learn what a firm no feels like in my body and what a true yes feels like too, and take my body seriously when it speaks. I trust my body in a way I never did before. As my Saturn Return comes to an end, my mantra is to honor my authentic no and live by my full-bodied yes, living in alignment with my true, authentic self.
What advice would you give to someone newly entering their Saturn Return?
As I write this, I’m very close to my Saturn Return ending, and while that feels comforting, I’m also deeply grateful for the past four years. I’m probably the happiest I’ve ever been in my almost 32 years of life. It’s been an initiation — stretching, shedding, growing, and learning in ways I couldn’t have chosen consciously. It’s not for the faint-hearted, but I do believe that if you’re already living in alignment, it can be gentler. Mine wasn’t, because I wasn’t. I was living far from my authentic self.
So my advice is this: if you feel out of alignment or sense a pull to change, follow it — but don’t try to optimize your way out of the experience. As a Virgo with a lot of Scorpio in my chart, my instinct was to analyze, perfect, and throw everything at getting better. I chased fixes, protocols, and healing modalities without leaving space for integration, and in hindsight that was the work I was avoiding. What actually changed things was slowing down and working consistently with support I trusted.
Don’t try to optimize your way out of the experience.
I’ve been incredibly lucky to work with a transpersonal therapist and a Five Elements acupuncturist throughout this period, and those are the modalities that have stood the test of time for me. Somatics has also been a game changer — coming back into my body and spending as much time offline as possible.
True healing, for me, has been less about fixing and more about remembering who I am.
Stephanie Rose-Colette
Stephanie is a New York-based tarot reader and intuitive with a background in spiritualism. She writes the Substack, guttural moan.
What were your expectations going into your Saturn Return? On a scale of 1-10, how invested were you in Western astrology?
I was a tepid 6.8. For me, ages 20-26 felt like a bulbous lead weight I was shouldering uphill — tragic and consuming. Part of me heard internet astrologers warn of Saturn and expected the incline to get steeper and the weight heavier, but the road flattened and I realized I could just drop things if they were too burdensome. I had a reading with my astrologer — an incredible elder named Robert Glasscock — just before my return began. He reassured me, “your life only gets better from here,” and he was completely right. In my natal chart, I have a grand mutable cross between Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, and my Sun, so I am used to tension on this planet and in this house.
What house is your natal Saturn in? How did these themes play out during this period?
My natal Saturn sits in my fifth house. The first part of my return focused on romance — I quickly met and fell in love with a flamenco guitarist who lived in Spain, and we started a long-distance relationship that would ultimately unravel but act as a playground for understanding my needs through others. After this experience, I felt called to sunset dating and seeking romantic love for the foreseeable future. Working as a psychic medium, I’ve always felt devoted to mystical pursuits, and the desire to marry and have children has felt far from my path.
My current project is to tend to my physical form with the devotion of a gardener.
I then turned my focus towards dissolving my creative blocks. Born into a family of artists, I have a natural predisposition towards visual arts, and yet, I always felt like there was something blocking the conjuring of these talents into physical reality, like I was a bottle full of all of my creative visions and my cork kept me from spilling any of it outside of myself.
What were some of the most unexpected or surprising moments?
Losing my day job twice at the beginning of the transit. Studying mediumship at a spiritualist college in England. Learning I had hyperthyroidism and using TCM to recalibrate my body. Re-learning French. Joining an organized religion for a bit. Posing nude as a figure model. Learning to play the Native American flute. Sitting in ceremony with ayahuasca in the Peruvian Andes. Rebuilding my relationship with my parents. Meeting members of my soul family that unlocked the portals where these happenings took place.
What were some of your biggest takeaways? How has your life changed?
I am finally working towards harmony with my body. For many years, I felt like I was hovering just above my crown — great for projecting into the spirit world, very poor for my health. To be so disjointed from my vessel meant that I couldn’t hear or honor her needs. Only now that I am in tune with her cues do I realize how much stress and anger I was locking inward. My current project is to tend to my physical form with the devotion of a gardener.
What advice would you give to someone newly entering their Saturn Return?
Your Saturn return path might not make sense for a while — experiment with surrender knowing that this is a language which can only be read backwards. Keep a journal and find resonant anchoring practices — dance, meditation, breathwork, cooking, primal screaming, etc. I recommend thorough documentation and archiving. Gather as much data about yourself during these ~3 years. This knowledge will allow you to make aligned decisions when change flies at you.
Free will exists. If you do not like the projections you are shown, change them.
It is fruitless to buy into the collective ideas about Saturn because all of our chart placements and aspects are so vastly different. Consult a professional astrologer if you want to know how it will affect you. The person on your FYP is not reliable here. I always remind my tarot clients — ultimately, you carve your own path. Free will exists. If you do not like the projections you are shown, change them.
If you’d like to book a session with Stephanie, reach out to her here (paid Health Gossip readers may show their most recent Substack receipt for a discount).
Ella M.
Ella is a writer living in California. You find more of her work on Private Silence.
What house is your natal Saturn in? How did these themes play out during this period?
My natal Saturn falls in the 12th house, highlighting my relationship with limitation, fear, and discipline. Unaware that I was in my Saturn return until the tail end of the year, I moved blindfolded through much of it, letting lived experience reveal the astrological undercurrents — through spurts of depression, limerence, friendships that forced my hand at vulnerability, and long stretches of solitude.
What were some of the most unexpected or surprising moments?
Because I was unaware of my Saturn return until the tail end of the year, I was surprised — almost moved — to read about it and see how far I’d come, how much I had already navigated without knowing I was in such a transgressive state. I remember being quite emotional as I read. The universe really does have a funny way of communicating with you.
Rather than creating work, this transit revealed what was already asking to be met.
What were some of your biggest takeaways? How has your life changed?
What if the void I’ve been afraid of is actually my most fertile ground?
For most of my life — especially in my late teens and early adulthood — I understood my void as a cold, cavernous, unforgiving darkness. A place I would slip into by a siren call, only to regain self-awareness and find myself enveloped in its snares, blinded by its violence. To fear something within yourself is an unnerving place to be, so you suppress it. And because you’re suppressing, you don’t know when or where the feelings — the thoughts — will find you again. On a walk. With a friend. Alone. In your happiest moment.
You live in a constant state of fight-or-flight; your nervous system is never fully at rest.
Solitude is not punishment; the stories I inherited do not define me; I can’t live from lack.
Only in recent months have I become aware of the fertility of this “unforgiving place.” While the feelings and thoughts still occasionally intimidate me, I no longer fear this part of myself — it is one of my best, deeply attuned to my creativity. With awareness, I can alchemize pain into wisdom. Solitude is not punishment; the stories I inherited do not define me; I can’t live from lack.
What advice would you give to someone newly entering their Saturn Return?
Without overly identifying with astrological transits — especially narratives that frame Saturn returns as purely punitive — I’ve come to see that Saturn didn’t arrive as punishment, but as a reckoning. One that asked for responsibility toward my inner life rather than fear of it. Rather than creating work, this transit revealed what was already asking to be met.
Note: these responses have been edited and condensed for clarity.
From Liz Greene, Saturn: A New Look at an Old Devil (1976):
“Whether we use psychological or esoteric terminology, the basic fact remains the same: human beings do not earn free will except through self-discovery, and they do not attempt self-discovery until things become so painful that they have no other choice.” (28).
“experiment with surrender knowing that this is a language which can only be read backwards”
💎