(October 23 to November 21)
It's kind of a sad feeling when you realize that nothing is coming to rescue you and you have to be your own rescuer. But maybe rescue is less about pushing so hard and more about realizing that you're actually already safe and good right where you are. Hope you have a great birthday.
(November 22 to December 21)
For the past few years people seem to be getting more interested in the moon: the #supermoon, the #bloodmoon, the #eclipse. I'm here to tell you it's less about what is actually going on with the moon and more about what you think is going on with the moon. You can do a full-moon ceremony at any time, even when it looks like there's nothing in the sky.
(December 22 to January 19)
It's not your fears but your fear of your fears that's tripping you up. Without the extra layer of self-induced worry, condemnation, and even hyper-examination, your fears can just pass like clouds in the sky or some shit.
(January 20 to February 18)
A gentle reminder that the Buddha and Jesus, and most religions, are mostly saying the same thing, and likely it points to selflessness as the path to a better life. The same might be said for other people with different political affiliations, opinions, or ideas than you. Scarily, you have more in common than you do separating you. And self-righteousness isn't cute, even in the most righteous people.
(February 19 to March 20)
People are trying to sell you something, and they are doing it by creating a feeling of need, like you are less than you could be without it. They're stoking the part of you that already might not feel like enough. But there's nothing you can acquire that will make you whole, and wholeness might not even be something to strive for anyway.
(March 21 to April 19)
This month, may you be protected from all you think you want, a gaze that looks sideways at what other people appear to have, the one who shows up in your dreams but is only really good for you there, and social media. Amen.
(April 20 to May 20)
My friend Darcie is a Taurus and has a crush on a Libra, and she asked if this month Libra can fall in love with Taurus. This month a Libra will fall in love with you! Also, astrology can be as bullshit as that, so don't pay too much attention to what any other astrologers tell you. They don't know.
(May 21 to June 20)
The need to have patience is like the worst shit ever, and you don't do well with waiting or gray areas. You can spend the time expecting the worst possible scenario, which feels like a way of protecting yourself from future pain because you'll have already predicted it if it happens. But you can't predict everything. And what about the pain you're already in?
(June 21 to July 22)
The will of the universe is never urgent. If you don't believe in a guiding creative intelligence or a sentient universe, that's cool. Just keep in mind this month that when you feel like you have to make something happen immediately, that's actually the time to pull back.
(July 23 to August 22)
Remember how much fun the points of your life you feel so nostalgic for now were? You actually weren't having as much fun as you remember. You weren't a static image but a human being with conflicting feelings, doubts, and the confusion that comes with existing. The same will be true in twenty years when you look back fondly at where you are now — even if at the moment you think you only feel the confusion.
(August 23 to September 22)
I hate to break it to you, but your idea of perfection is skewed. That's because there is no real objective template for perfection, and what you consider perfect is a false idea built on warped shit from your childhood (don't worry, we all have warped shit from our childhood). Think of perfection as more like art. It's actually a very subjective thing and really just about making something cool with that warped shit.
(September 23 to October 22)
Everything is terrible. And then things are fine. And then everything is terrible and will never be anything other than terrible. Then everything is amazing. Being a human being is truly crazy, and none of us can avoid pain, but the ones who maybe suffer a little less are those who remember that everything changes.
Melissa Broder is the author of four collections of poems, including Last Sext (Tin House 2016), as well as So Sad Today, a book of essays from Grand Central.