Beautiful Libra. Ugly World.

Born with an inherent sense of the world’s most rewarding values, Libra struts through life with apparent ease. I’ve often wondered if these individuals received a secret philosophy class in lieu of kindergarten, or even a confidential handbook. They experience everyday events with the kind of optimism that puts SpongeBob Square Pants to shame, skipping through malls and parks with child-like wonder…literally. My Libra grandmother used to propel herself through our grocery store by riding the shopping carts like a scooter. But, why wouldn’t she? With a fresh pink manicure and perfectly styled hair, she beamed as if her morning routine included a dip in the fountain of youth. Acting as an example of beauty comes natural to these Venusian types. But even in the twenty-first century, people are inclined to prioritize themselves above the idealized unity Libra seeks. Nothing is more toxic to these individuals than the inevitable ugliness that humans display.

Libra’s relationship with beauty is not middle school lust. More akin to the unconditional love between parent and child, it is far more serious than a summer fling. It is experienced at a spiritual level. This is why their passion extends beyond a great haircut, or an Instagramable cheese board. Librans require more than just a pretty dish; the meal must taste good too. And beyond that, it should provide sustenance. It shouldn’t cause harm to other living things. And it should never be a source of greed or over-indulgence. It should satisfy not only the taste buds, but the body, mind, and spirit. Because this bond with beauty rests in their core, Libra can’t help but project it as the answer to all that is ugly and painful. Acts of ugliness can prompt a passion so great, that you may forget you’re talking to an air sign. I’ve always felt that Libra is the least detached of its counterparts, feeling in balance with intellectualizing.
           
Around ninth grade, the calls from my Libra grandmother subsided. Showing more interest in my younger sister, they began their weekly Starbucks sessions without extending the invite. One morning, as my sister was applying foundation to her face, getting ready to enjoy a chocolate Frappuccino with Grandma Kathy, she spoke her Sagittarian truth. “Grandma doesn’t hang out with you anymore because she says you’re bad at conversation,” she stated. My mom reassured me that I am not bad at conversation, that she’s said similar things to her, that she’s just being a Libra…I made my own cup of coffee and shuffled to my room.

​Librans face a peculiar contradiction. On the one hand, they can’t stand feeling like they’re not being treated with the same consideration they offer others. On the other hand, they typically despise confrontation. Tension doesn’t promote beauty, and neither does addressing an issue with someone. The problem with this contradiction is that it makes them appear fake. I can’t count the number of times I’ve discovered a Libra was upset with me from someone else. I still prefer that to overhearing my Libran friend vent about me in the next room, before greeting me in a soprano voice and a plastic smile. I’m not perfect, but neither is anyone else. And Librans could prevent a lot of turmoil if they could muster the courage to confront people about their frustrations—directly and immediately. Because they have to let it out in some form, and it’s better to hear it from the source than to hear it from my grandfather in a church parking lot. Libra has endless wisdom to share, and most people could benefit from learning how to treat others more fairly. When Librans realize that their gift is not inherent in the vast majority of humans, they can access deeper understanding and compassion. And in turn, they can aid the human race, sprinkling our earth with beauty.