VENUSIAN VENTURES

Where It Hurts Is Where You Begin: Venus/Chiron in Aries| June 1

Image credit—@aiempirerising and @thechangeai on Instagram

Some transits whisper…

This one doesn’t.

This one screams like a comet being born in your chest cavity. Like a goddess with a flesh wound who’s decided to dance anyway—barefoot, bleeding, and crowned in fire.

On June 1, Venus presses her lips to Chiron at 25° Aries, and something ancient and tender gets singed open. This is not a Hallmark Venus. This is not satin sheets and strawberries. This is Venus with ash on her cheek and callouses on her palms. This is Venus post-crucible. Venus mid-exorcism. Venus at the edge of herself.

And who does she meet but Chiron—the wounded healer, the master of sacred paradox, the exile with a library in his ribcage. The one who taught others what he himself could never quite mend. Together, they meet in Aries—the sign of ignition, instinct, and god-blooded becoming. It’s not subtle. It’s not supposed to be.

This conjunction cracks open the raw underbelly of how we love, how we long, how we self-sabotage, and how we try, again and again, to let someone—or something—see us before we see ourselves. It flings the door open on wounds you thought you’d outgrown: the ache to be chosen, the shame of being too much, the fury of being unseen…

And yet, strangely, it blesses them.

Because the truth is this: love that has never bled has never truly lived. And this Venus doesn’t want passive adoration—she wants participation. Passion. Presence. She doesn’t want your flowers. She wants your fight.

The Sabian degree imagery hums behind this: “Living on the edge. Poised at many brinks. Swept up in a tide of changes—chaotic and magnificent.” That’s not a gentle wave. That’s the flood. The dam bursting. The moment you stop holding yourself in and finally let yourself go—into desire, into purpose, into whatever strange and staggering truth is calling your name from the edge of your becoming.

Yes, it’s overwhelming. Yes, it might make your bones shake. But it will also bring you back into contact with the original spark—the wild pulse that preceded your first heartbreak, the holy yes before you learned to say no to yourself out of safety.

If you’ve been over-editing your needs, this conjunction sets the page on fire. If you’ve been living inside someone else’s story about what love should look like, this is the part where you drop the script and improvise with God. Venus in Aries doesn’t ask for permission. And Chiron doesn’t wait for conditions to be perfect. Together, they forge healing not through fixing, but through full-bodied, full-throated, blistering embodiment.

So where does it hurt? Good. That’s where you begin.

What are you still longing for? Perfect. That’s where the truth is.

This is the wound that reveals the song. The scar that sings. The crack that lets love in—not the easy kind, but the kind that remakes you.

Let yourself be undone.

Let yourself be remade.

And let it be beautiful, not in spite of the pain—but because of it…

ZODIACAL PERSPECTIVES