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Moon-Neptune Diaries: Mother Wounds and Emotional Depths
The relationship with one’s mother can be a complex one, especially with a challenging Moon-Neptune aspect. I have the Moon in Pisces square Neptune in the 4th house, and I’ve jotted down some thoughts in my notebook. Now, I’m not saying that all Moon-Neptune aspects will experience the same struggles—such as feeling unable to express independent needs or being guilt-tripped for trying to establish boundaries. But in my case, these feelings were very real. It took me years to even recognize them, let alone put them into words. Even now, as I get older, it’s difficult to articulate how emotions can become so deeply enmeshed. I remember times when I voiced a separate opinion, only to be made to feel selfish for it—like being caught in a tidal wave of guilt and confusion. I also wonder if having the Moon in the 12th house carries similar themes, given that it’s Neptune’s domain as well.
Neptune is the archetype of the mother (Moon), the well-intended yet elusive caregiving figure whose love might feel like a tide, pulling you in, but never quite letting you stand on solid ground. It’s not that she doesn’t care, but rather that her care might have been laced with projection, with unspoken needs, with a kind of love that expected fusion instead of individuality. And so, when you try to express yourself—Who am I? What do I want?—you encounter a guilt-trip here, a subtle invalidation there, until the very act of asserting your needs feels like an offense, a betrayal of some unspoken agreement that love meant surrendering yourself. There can be moments where you try to piece yourself back together, to name the tides that feel nameless. This alone is an act of healing—because Moon-Neptune wounds are insidious in their shapelessness. They make it hard to pinpoint exactly what went wrong, only that you’ve been left feeling adrift. There’s often a sense that love had to be earned through sacrifice, through understanding her wounds before ever tending to your own.
Moon-Neptune Notes
Don’t make fun of my pink notes with pink highlighting—I find the color calming. A visual calm of pastel introspection. Though, I suppose a nice shade of blue might have been more fitting for Neptune’s oceanic feelings. I do wonder if I tend to over-highlight things sometimes. Or do I illuminate. If this were a final post, I’d refine it properly, but for now, it’s just for others with Moon-Neptune placements who might relate to these emotions. If you don’t, that’s fine too—there’s no need to overanalyze it. I like adding psychological perspectives to deepen my understanding and explore things at their roots. Liz Greene, in Neptune and the Quest for Redemption, referenced The Drama of the Gifted Child, noting strong Moon-Neptune themes within it. I’ve been reading through it, taking notes for a future post, and I can definitely see the parallels.
Alice Miller speaks to the wounds of the sensitive soul, the child who learned to attune so exquisitely to others’ needs that they forgot their own. It’s Moon-Neptune in a nutshell—hyper-perceptive, emotionally fluid, sometimes too eager to merge in the hope of securing love.
I read another book about maternal narcissism, and some of its themes resonated with me as well. I’d like to put these ideas together at some point. The psychology behind Moon-Neptune emotional needs is fascinating. That said, I’m not into mother-bashing. Mothers have their own struggles, childhood wounds, and pain. Plus, my perspective is inevitably shaped by my own Moon placement.
Because mothers, too, were once daughters. They, too, had mothers with their own unresolved stories.
My own children will have some mother issues too. For instance, my eldest son has Moon opposite Saturn, while my youngest has Moon square Pluto.
When Jennifer Aniston spoke about her mother issues—she has a very tight Moon square Pluto—her descriptions really fit the archetype of the Plutonian mother. Her mother came across as almost mythically intense, like a villain in a story. Aniston’s Moon- Pluto is a textbook case of the archetypal Plutonian mother—intense, controlling, perhaps unconsciously wielding power in a way that left her daughter feeling controlled or dominated. I don’t see myself in that role at all, but I do wonder about how these dynamics play out. I’ve also hoped that my youngest son’s Moon trine Venus might soften the harsher Pluto influence, giving it another form of expression. Still, I get so self-conscious about it. For example, whenever I go into his room, he acts like I’m invading his space. But he spends so much time in there that I like to check in. And yet, thanks to astrology, I keep catching myself thinking—oh great, here I am, the Moon-Pluto mother, being all intrusive like some overprotective monster! Moon-Pluto often experiences a strong emotional tie to the mother, whether in the form of deep love, conflict, or a sense of being psychically entangled. It’s a placement that also demands respect for emotional boundaries.
I’ve taken our daily plunge into the great maternal abyss—now it’s time to resurface, shake off the seaweed, and reclaim the rest of the day. There’s only so much one can dwell on inherited emotional baggage before eyeing a bottle of wine (or in my case, tea) or a box of chocolates like a life raft. Whenever I get too deep into mother-related introspection, I find myself reaching for a favorite guilty pleasure. So, for now, that’s enough deep diving!