The Autistic Astrologer Says: Let All Your Bullshit Go At The Start Of This 15 Year Eclipse

Virgo season means it's time to say 'no more'. (I should know—the last time we had a Virgo eclipse my fiancè called off our wedding at the last minute.)

Hey Virgin People!

I for one am relieved that it is no longer Leo season. Because of difficult relationships I have with some of them, as I mentioned. Though my favorite triple Leo, Tom, did share with me on his birthday the most perfect triple Leo story you could ever imagine. I will ask him to repeat it to you here in the comments.

Now Virgos on the other hand, what I have to say about Virgos is that in every hiring opportunity I’ve ever had - at Sassy magazine, Jane magazine, Jane Radio, The Jane Pratt Show, Another Jane Pratt Thing and all the other annoyingly egomaniacally titled projects I've done, I have realized only way after the fact that about 90% of the people I have hired are Virgos. I don't know enough about this to know if it's because I'm Scorpio that I just love all things about Virgos? They make me feel very secure. They were always the ones at every venture who actually got the work done and made those projects happen. Unlike the Pisces who were hiding drugs in their desks and doing an amazingly good job of looking like they were making the work happen – I hired a number of those as well.*

Anyway, I'm truly thrilled that Bee is here writing these horoscopes for you in her amazingly connected way. I’m also incredibly grateful that she is constantly so gracious with her individual answers to you (and me - I needed a lot of help last month) in the comments. So talk to her there about her reading for your sign this month or anything else you want to ask. She goes above and beyond. I love her. Wait, is she a Virgo? Now I have to ask.

I love you all too and happy new season!

Jane

*Scout’s honor, I wrote this before I read Bee’s introduction below where she specifically references Virgos and Pisces. Showing how precisely accurate she is. Trust her! I do, anyway.

Here I am (right) taking in an inner child day at the beach with my dear friend Jenna Borrelli (left), a hypnotherapist and burnout recovery coach.

In 2015, I was supposed to get married. At the time, I thought I was completely in love with someone I called my best friend. The elegant pastel pink invitations were already in the mail to everyone I thought I loved. But, three months before the wedding, it ended. Abruptly. He all of a sudden didn’t want the same things. It came out of nowhere, I thought.

It was humiliating. I had to leave the home I loved, the relationship I’d uprooted my entire life for, and with that, my sanity. It was the second time my entire life was uprooted overnight. I kept thinking the whole situation reminded me of when I was three years old and my mother died. My dad moved his mistress in three days after her death, and suddenly all of my mother’s stuff was replaced by this wicked woman’s. My half sister, who was 13 at the time, moved away overnight to her father’s. I was alone.

And here I was again. Everything changed overnight. My friends weren’t supportive. I became suicidal from being in a functional freeze state. I had no one who I felt understood what I was experiencing. My family was too consumed by their own chaos to notice I was unraveling with PTSD and desperate for help. My half sister was pregnant at the time —and though I tried my best to go on walks so I could cry away from her home and not be a nuisance, I was. She texted my other sister that I needed to leave immediately. (She said due to her pregnancy, she didn’t have the time or energy or space for me and what I was experiencing.)

“My relationship was filled with emotional and, at times, physical abuse. Not once in all our time together did my fiance try to understand what being autistic meant for me.”

But I couldn’t go to my other sister’s house, either. The thought of returning to a home I never felt safe in was too much. I thought I had lost everything.

But from where I stand now, I see that this was the best thing that ever happened to me. Because now I know that these people were never my support system. They were my burden. They were the reason I felt suicidal.

From a distance, I can now see the relationship was filled with emotional abuse, at times physical abuse. I thought it was my fault for nagging him. I am autistic, and not once in all our years together did he try to understand what that meant for me. No books. No podcasts. No questions. Just cruel one-liners like, “You were raised by wolves,” whenever I acted in a way that was completely normal for someone like me. When my close friend died, he said he “didn’t understand death,” so he was no help at all. He refused to go to the funeral with me.

I was in a relationship (once again) where I thought I was a burden. This was the dynamic with my family, so I didn’t know any different and I felt completely worthless. No wonder I struggled so much with those feelings. All the times I was suicidal, no one actually offered help. My feelings were too triggering for everyone else.

I should have never been with him. But back then, I was still inside the systems I had inherited. A toxic family structure. A pattern of surviving by staying small, abandoning my needs and desires. Excepting the minimal emotional support I was given (and despertately needed) and getting taxed on the co-regulation I received. That breakup was the beginning of a long, painful process. I started pulling away from my family. From old relationships. From versions of me that only knew how to tolerate harm and emotional neglect.

Every part of me was screaming that this relationship was a mirror of the control and patterns I had spent my life trying to escape. I thought misery was normal, that exhaustion and tension were just part of love …but my body knew better. Walking away felt like falling off a cliff, and yet on the other side of that collapse was a life I hadn’t dared to imagine…a life where my nervous system can finally rest, where people actually hear me, where support and respect aren’t luxuries but everyday realities. And once you’ve known that, everything else starts to feel unbearably hollow.”

I used to live with suicidal thoughts as a constant background noise. But now? I have had two years of consistent peace. Of wanting to be here. I am supported. I am understood. I have friends who call me family and actually mean it. For the first time in my life, I feel like I am healing for real. Not just coping. Not just getting through the day. Healing.

It’s amazing how much your life changes when you surround yourself with people interested in playing a supporting role and really understanding you. I learned that life didn’t have to be difficult for me and the way in which I thrive my family or ex will never see, well that’s just for my homegirls now, my chosen family.

Me (center) with my soul family: Jenna (left), and Brandon of Bram Astrology and Reiki (right).

Why am I telling you all this? Because it’s Virgo season, friends and we have a bonus — the Pisces lunar eclipse.

2015 (and some of 2016) was also the last time, until now, that we had eclipses around these degrees in Virgo and Pisces. Back then, during those darkest times for me, it was a solar eclipse. Something new began. And now, nearly a decade later, that chapter is reaching its conclusion.

If you have never touched a birth chart, let me break this down: Eclipses are major cosmic events not unlike bookends of your life. In astrology, they mark turning points. A solar eclipse is like a season premiere. It kicks off a new storyline in your life. One you usually did not see coming. A lunar eclipse? That is the finale. It is closure. It is the kind of ending where a character gets written off and the show never feels quite the same again.

Eclipses don’t just end things, they reveal what was broken underneath the surface the whole time. They clear the fog. They force your hand. Eclipses also fall along two opposite signs and bring together the storylines for the six months ahead. This one is on the Virgo–Pisces axis. Two signs that do not speak the same language. Two very different ways of surviving this human experience.

Virgo is the analyst. The nurse. The editor. The one who notices what everyone else overlooks. Virgo rules the parts of life that require consistency and care. Health. Habits. Words. Schedules. The way we manage our bodies and our calendars and the stories we tell ourselves to stay sane. Virgo is the voice in your head that says “slow down,” right before you screw something up. It wants structure. It wants clarity. It wants healing that you can track. Communication is a Virgo concept.

Pisces is none of those things. Pisces is the dreamer. The mystic. The addict. The poet. It rules surrender. Chaos. Grief. Music. Film. Memory. It is the feeling you get listening to a song you loved in a completely different life. It is imagination and unraveling. Pisces does not care about spreadsheets or closure. Pisces cares about disappearing into something holy and coming out the other side changed.

And this month, we are having a lunar eclipse in Pisces. That means an ending. A season finale. Something in your Pisces section of your birth chart, or the Piscean part of your life, is closing. Fading. Dissolving. It could be an illusion you were holding on to. A fantasy you have outgrown. A belief about yourself or someone else that no longer feels real.

So maybe this month, something ends. A belief. A cycle. A relationship. A fantasy. Maybe the thing you were trying to save was never meant to be saved. Maybe you finally step outside the story that never saw you clearly and say, “No more.”

Let it go. Let it die with dignity. No resuscitation. No long goodbye. Just thank it. Bless it. And release it.

Because when Pisces ends something, it is not failure. It is mercy. It is the holy undoing of something that was never built to last.

Me (left) having a super happy day with Brandon (center) and Jenna (right).

And once the wreckage clears, Virgo steps in. The part of you that is ready to rebuild. To pick up the pen. To write a new version of your story. One rooted not in illusion or survival but in something real.

And the small stuff? It stops being so small. Virgo does not care how inspired you are if your laundry is still sitting in the machine begging to be folded. This is the season of edits, upgrades, and quiet inner revolutions.

So, welcome to your Virgo era. The air is a little crisper. The bullshit radar is a bit sharper. Suddenly everyone is obsessed with optimizing their morning routine and starting whatever parasite cleanse is cool this month. Virgo season is when the world starts scrubbing itself clean. When we remember that discipline is not punishment, it is tender devotion. It is when your body speaks up louder than your phone and when the to-do list becomes a kind of prayer.

Below, you’ll find your personalized Horoscope for August 23 -September 22 2025.