Beneath the Surface: A Strawberry Moon Reflection

By Virginia Underwood

Today, while helping build a garden border at my roommate’s house, we uncovered a small Texas brown snake curled beneath a pile of rocks. Quiet. Hidden. Rooted in the Earth.

It felt like a message.

Lately, I’ve been deep in slow, sacred shadow work—tending to the parts of me that used to hide behind smiles. That performed for love. That feared being too much, too honest, too real.

And then, a few days ago, I had a reading with a friend.

Before she even said a word, I felt it. I didn’t want to hear what she had to say. Part of me wanted to shut it down, say “Never mind.” But something deeper knew: this was exactly what I needed.

She looked me in the eye and said:
“You’re judging by not sharing your truth. You’re deciding what others will find acceptable before they even have a chance to meet you there. You’re trying to control how they see you—and calling it protection.”

And that pierced me.

Because she was right.

I’ve spent years trying to be palatable, shaping myself around what I thought others wanted. Not realizing that hiding my truth was its own kind of judgment—deciding they couldn’t handle it, deciding I wouldn’t be loved if I was honest.

That’s the wound I’m sitting with now.

And for the first time, I’m not trying to outrun it with food, shopping, cannabis, sex, or drama. I’m letting the stories rise. I’m letting the ache breathe. I’m thanking the masks for their service, and choosing—moment by moment—not to put them back on.

There’s a Sagittarius Full Moon rising—the Strawberry Moon—a moon of truth, freedom, and soul-expansion. And I can feel it ripening something in me. A quiet revolution. A new kind of freedom—not through escape, but through radical embodiment.

Because I don’t have to blow my life up just because something is shifting.
I don’t have to perform, hide, or over-explain.
I can just be. And that is enough.

So I’m here. In the dark. With the snake. With the truth. Letting it all be heard. Letting it all be healed.

And if you’re there too—uncovering pieces of yourself you once buried—I honor you. You’re not alone. You’re not broken. You’re blooming.

🌑🪱🌕🍓