Scorpio Pig.

When coming up with a title for this, I came to the brilliant realisation that I am a Scorpio Pig. A classic and undisputable Scorpio (though the horoscope vs reality debate lives on) and a 1995 year of the pig baby. I’ve always liked being a Scorpio, but the pig thing took a minute. A couple years ago my friend took me micro-pig walking for my birthday, did you know pigs have a hierarchy system? Seriously. They take rankings very seriously, and as my pig Mr Darcy was pushed out the way by his superior, I found out just how serious it was.

There was something about this that endeared me to them. Even pigs will sort themselves into a system. Something humans often think is a failing occurrence reserved for an ‘intelligent species’ like ours. I think about the systems I find myself in at the moment, and the two sides of myself are ready to fight it out. On one side, the Scorpio in me wants to burn it all, rise to individualism, and live uncompromisingly until I am distilled into a potent version of myself, so violently strong I’m inconsumable. On the other hand, there's the pig, that cute, sweet, ambitious little pig. Pigs, I’m sure, have many official qualities in the birthcharts, but my little pig craves structure. My little pig goes weeeeee all the way up the chain of command. I love it. There’s a wonderful safety and confidence in knowing where you stand. The explicitness of a hierarchy is undeniable. And overt direct communication will be something I always find reassuring.

I’ve felt at a crossroads for some time. That I must pick one. Chaos or Structure. Madness or Sanity. Art or Science. How can I? I suppose now it’s rearing up again, as my fellow ‘95 pigs and I cross that line into our 30’s you can't help but take an inventory of your life. Wondering if I picked the right side? the right team? Or did I jump ship too soon? Should I have held out and tried harder?

I have nearly no other 30-year-old friends. Most are older, a wonderful thing about a small town, multi-generational friends are very much the norm. But the couple that I do have, have, funnily enough, managed to make huge life-changing commitments in the last year, and part of me wonders how much of that is in the looming rise of 30 on the horizon. I haven’t. I feel remarkably unfazed by 30. Instead, I am far more caught in the decades-long debate mentioned above. It’s one I am completely resigned to debating for the rest of my life. However, now at least I can see it's not nature vs nurture, not one of these ideas Chaos or Control summarises my inherent being. Instead, I am both. A living contradiction. A concise confusion.

Never is this Scorpio vs Pig fight more present than at my birthday. I love my birthday. I always struggle with it. I want to celebrate loudly and with my community. I also want to be completely alone. I feel proud when I look back at everything I’ve done. And it is never enough. I am truly satisfied with my life. And I want more.

Whatever I think this month, I always feel more. It catches me off guard. Unarourmed. And this time, instead of swallowing it, choking down fears, grief, nostalgia, and regrets, with cries of ‘happy birthday to me!’ I’m cluing people in. I’m telling them how I feel. I’m giving people the opportunity to be there for me, and they are doing it. Somehow, by starting to accept both sides, both natures, both Scorpio and Pig.

So, I guess to my fellow Scoripo Pigs out there. I just want to say,

Happy Birthday x