Out of all the signs, Capricorn is the one that’s the most misunderstood by the astrology memes. Business and practical who? Diligent and disciplined how? You’re not corporate. You were never corporate. You were not born to be corporate.

Capricorn Moon is the condition of freaking out all the time because you don’t belong, because you’ve never belonged, and you anticipate, sometimes, that you never will belong. Because belonging is a privilege that you’d never feel comfortable in even if it were built into the way you moved through the world.

Capricorn Moon is a supremely uncomfortable Moon.

Yes, you may have a Moon in detriment (which isn’t as bad as it sounds) but your Moon’s ruling planet, Saturn, is a revolutionary. You weren’t built to find comfort in the status quo because your existence here in this world is meant to change something. You weren’t built to feel satisfaction when you fulfill someone else’s standards because you, out of all the Moon signs, are an agent of change.

Capricorn Moons seek to understand themselves in their own discomfort. This is a very useful skill but a very undervalued skill. It is the skill of social accountability.

You’re a sarcastic, biting Moon sign because, with Jupiter in fall in the sign of your Moon, you find the possibility of political hope almost scandalous. You’ve earned your deep cynicism through hard experience. You know everything is going to shit anyways. You know that the world as we know it is ending.

The world as we know it is ending. The world as we know it will not be here within our lifetimes. Out of all the Moon signs, you’re the placement that can conceptual this imaginary void the best.

Capricorn Moon, sometimes, is a Moon that is more comfortable in sadness than in joy. As a Capricorn Moon, it can be hard to remember that your joy is just as complicated, gives you just as much dimension, and just as much truth as your sorrow.

Capricorn Moon is not about always being strong. You already know how to do that. You’re a survivor and your instincts have been honed by the survival of violence.

Mars is exalted in the sign of your Moon. You already know how to appear strong. What you’re here to do is to learn how to earn resilience.

Capricorn Moon is a genealogical Moon. Saturn was a guy who did all he could to break free of the cycles of violence that he witnessed from his dad. In the myth, he wasn’t successful at it. Saturn ended up doing exactly what his dad was doing, which was eating his children. Saturn represents generational change. Generational change takes several generations. That’s what we mean by knowing our limits—there are ways in which your body anticipates cruelty that is a direct consequence of the traumas your ancestors experienced and enacted that you cannot change within your lifetime. There are social structures that continue to enact this trauma that you may not be able to change within your lifetime.

Capricorn Moon thinks in terms of lifetimes. Capricorn Moons knows that we will someday die and that death does not change our commitments to the world.

It is important that Capricorn Moons move with people. You were never meant to live in your discomfort alone. You are meant to share the ways in which a world that was built to exclude you with other people. You are not satisfied creating comfort with people but seek to share a discomfort that challenges power.

Your discomfort is a challenge to power. Capricorn Moons are revolutionaries, which means that you are more concerned with failure than with success. You are here to make existing systems fail—not to distort and fit your definition of success into the social structures that uphold power. You have the audacity to break systems that work too well for some people at the cost of others.

Capricorn Moons sometimes feel the need to justify their positions by arguing against a higher power all of the time. You create an authoritarian bogeyman in your head. You gather the information you need to disarm this bogeyman and don’t notice the ways your decisions are justified by your antagonism with this imaginary figure. This figure might be your dad, a former teacher, or an ex. You argue with all your exes in your head all of the time.

As a Capricorn Moon, your conflicts are strapped to your back like a response that wasn’t released. These swallowed responses become false responsibilities to people that you have no commitment to. As a Capricorn Moon, you weren’t taught to let go. You were taught to hang on, even if everything inside is collapsing.

Your bogeyman doesn’t care about you. Your bogeyman isn’t watching you, doesn’t know who you are better than yourself, and your bogeyman isn’t listening to you. No amount of arguing will change the fact that they’re not willing to listen.

As a Moon in detriment, you are more comfortable struggling against something, even if that thing is made up, than finding easiness. A higher morality that emerges from a conditioned outsider status will not save you. Choosing a harder decision because something inside you thinks that no one can punish you if you punish yourself will not transform your community nor yourself.

You don’t have to be the most marginalized person to have empathy with yourself. There is no such thing as being the most marginalized person. Your empathy is not contingent upon social violence but exists independently and autonomously. Your empathy is able to create new worlds.

Your empathy—the kind you share with yourself—is the hardest thing in the world because it can seem like there is no point in wallowing and feeling sorry for yourself. As a Capricorn Moon, the easiest role for you to play is that of the self sacrificial martyr who needs no praise as they burn themselves out for everyone else. This is also the hardest role that you can play because of the extraordinary amount of self pity involved in crafting this role for yourself.

Stop playing the hard roles and start playing the easy ones. You’re not just a revolutionary ready to dissolve into martyrdom. You’re also a lover, a poet, a child, a friend, an aunt, an uncle, a daddy, a baby, and a student.