Chiron is called the wounded healer–where you were wounded, is now where you will heal others. You may not always feel the strongest in the area, but somehow no one will notice.
Find your Chiron, by looking at your chart here.
My Chiron story is personal to me, but I hope that it helps or inspires those struggling with their own communication and speech–or any points in your life that were wounded.
In my Birth Chart, Chiron is in Gemini in the 3rd House, so to say that I struggled with my speech, is an understatement. I was not only ridiculously shy growing up, but when I finally did talk, I was ridiculed by both adults and other kids, due to the prolific number of speech impediments I had.
The adults must have believed that their incessant laughter over my inability to say my own name, wouldn’t drive me to quiet tears, but of course, it did.
“What’s your name?”
“OMG you are so cute and that’s hilarious! Your name isn’t Alytha, is it!? You just can’t SAY it!”
I stopped saying my name when people asked, which only drove people to anger. Anger was better than laughter.
Then of course there was my hilarious father, “Hey Alyssa! Say, ‘Red rover ran the rugged roads!’ Now say, ‘Silly Sammy Sosa slurped six sodas and got sick sick sick!’ Holy crap! This is hilarious!”
As I grew up, I had crazy amounts of shame for the way I was. I can’t actually tell you if it was partly because I was born a little insecure, or if it was 100% bred into me, through the way I was treated. But when people so much as looked at me, I wanted to cry–for they surely were picking out my flaws.
In 6th grade, a very pretty, popular girl started making fun of me for everything I did. At one point, I asked her why, and she told me that it was because, “Everything about you is ridiculous: the way you speak, dress, and walk.” I was poor growing up, so my clothes were hand-me downs, but as for my speech, that was my fault for being born incorrectly.
When I told my parents about my verbal bully, they told me that I was only harboring resentment and anger towards a human, and I should be nice to her. Of course, they couldn’t see that I wasn’t very well-liked or popular, because they loved me so much. They were also both Pisces, who liked to block out certain things if they were too sad. Although at that time, I believed them to be supportive of my bully’s views of me. Parents are seriously alien, sometimes.
In 6th grade, on the first Tuesday of each month, I would go see a speech therapist instead of sitting in my science class. What speech therapy actually entailed, was walking over to the special-ed hall, where I learned how to use my tongue correctly, with flash cards and game boards. The therapist was very nice, but I literally got drooled on in that class, at least once, by each kid. Quite seriously, the only kids in my school that couldn’t talk, were the very lovely kids with special needs who had no control over their mouths, and me. I could tell that this class was lowering my self-esteem, so one day, I pretended to forget to go. The therapist came to get me, and loudly exclaimed to the whole class, “Alyssa forgot all about her speech therapy class today! How are you supposed to learn to talk correctly if you forget about it!” And then she reached her arms out, as if to embrace me for a hug. I was mortified for years afterwards. Just thinking about it, gave me the creepy shudders until I was around 20 years old.
In high school I didn’t raise my hand in class, even if I had the answer to a question no one else understood. You see, at this point I was so trained to believe that no one would want to hear me speak–I didn’t speak at all.
I was halfway through high school, when something did start to change within me. As transit Saturn in Gemini rolled along in the early aughts, and jumped on top of my Chiron–I learned how to laugh at myself! After every slip of tongue or any crazy random stutter, I laughed. Because it was funny. And by the end of my school hell, I got mouth surgery to expand my palate, and my tongue fit, and I no longer lisped (Well not soberly). I finally had the satisfaction of learning that I wasn’t an idiot for the lisping and the tripping over my tongue that destroyed my life so early on. It was my body’s fault! My body did not actually work the way it was meant to.
But it was like the universe told me I had to learn to believe in myself, and laugh at my ridiculousness, before I was shown that there was a problem that could be fixed. The Universe is a dick, but I can thank it for teaching me the fine art of laughing at myself–Something so many people miss out on.
When I got into my 20’s, I wasn’t afraid of talking anymore, but I was constantly having to sit and listen to people make fun of how idiotic I was, whenever I said something they didn’t agree with. But that’s life, and the fact that my brain is full of objectionable ideas. I think the saddest Chiron point of my early adulthood was when I realized that every boyfriend I had, outwardly laughed at me, when I would tell them what I wanted to do with my life, “You can’t do that! You’re not that smart or funny!”
The next part of my life seems to make no sense:
When I was 26 years old, something inside me told me I could logically make YouTube videos. It wasn’t an outward voice, because seriously, very few people believed in my ability to entertain, enlighten, or even speak coherently. But I listened to the voice within, and I did it.
A week after my first video was posted, I got drunk and showed my boyfriend, because I was too embarrassed to show him while sober. What he told me afterwards, is probably why I married him.
He said, “I think you found the dream that is going to take you out of the service industry.”
He was right.
Now, if you asked me what my passion was, I would have to say, it somehow all points to helping others find their voice.
You know, I can’t keep you on my back forever, drag you behind me, or cheer you on for the rest of your life, but I can get you to believe in your words. And if you’re anything like me, finding your voice will take you to your own fulfillment of purpose.
I’m very glad that there are people with platforms to speak, because of me–even if I don’t always agree with their words and even when they turn around and use their words to bully me. I’m glad that people care about what I have to say, and even happier that there are people who don’t. Trolls are something I’ve dealt with my whole life, and trust me when I say that they don’t get any better at what they do–
But I always do.