Dear Madame Zolonga: SuperVenus — and the Blankity-Blank Problem

Dear Madame,

I’m a Libra with a Taurus Moon, trying to decide what to do about a relationship with a guy I’ve been seeing for a while now. This morning I did a one-card tarot draw and pulled the Five of Cups, which pretty well describes my circumstances.

Can you tell me anything else about this Venus in Leo stuff I’ve been reading about lately? I know Leo is a sign my Moon is sup-posed to conflict with. Should I just cut my losses now? Or is it worth hanging on until the Venus thing is done in the fall? Help!

– Lovelorn (sigh) Libra

Dear Lovey,

The Five of Cups is what I call the ‘don’t cry over spilt milk’ card. Or what others (less charitably) call the Get Over It card. What’s not clear is whether you’ve come down on the side of the stand-ing two cups, or the fallen three.

I dunno. It seems to me that you’ve got genuine options. But I’m not a tarot reader, so I’ll give you the astrology.

If you’ve a Libra Sun and a Taurus Moon, you are indeed twice-ruled by this Venus ‘thing’. So, yes, you may feel the pull of Ve-nus a bit more than others during the transit and retrograde through the sign of Leo. Knowing that, it’s worth looking at your Venus tendencies first.

Even though Venus works overtime in your life, through your Sun and Moon, these two sides of you aren’t likely to see each other’s point of view. This is because the two Venii (Venuses?) work in different modes. One side, your Moon, must fe-e-el the love. For real.

Why give up the guy when you just bought 500-thread count or-ganic cotton sheets, which could only improve with the smooth touch of hard muscle against your side? Yum, yum, yum.

And your Sun? Well, it’s not tactile treasures but cerebral charm that turns you on. Nothing’s sexier than a responsive partner, who knows the meaning of social intelligence and gives good word in the sack.

You see, it’s easier for SuperVenusian You to see the big ‘V’ and think it’s an incomplete heart just waiting for Pedro Perfecto to arrive, with a great meal and rapport, to round out the top bit. But heaping too much of those expectations on Venus is not really good for her — or you.

Why not think about the bigger picture Venus inhabits? You know, the other ‘V’: V for Values. Without a sense of what you really stand for, how will you know what or who fits your stan-dards?

Now here’s a lil’ secret for you: your Venus wants to be a passive participant in attraction. When it comes to relationships, she likes things handed to her. But in the sign of Leo, Venus gets a bit bold, and heads out on the prowl. Lights a fire under your tushie! This is likely a problem for your SuperVenusian tastes, because you prefer the easy, softer, cashmere-lined approach. Why hustle for it when you can bat your long, luscious lashes and get it handed to you?

But perhaps you need that fire. Accuse me of laying on the Love-lorn Libran stereotypes too thick here, but you have left me 37 blanks to fill in — and I’m doing it. The point is, you like what you like; now know why you like it. You have options, but most folks reach for the easiest ones.

For SuperVenusian you, the easy approach appeals most: you’re always waiting for others to respond, take the lead, and make you feel comfortable. At its worst, this is akin to making yourself into a Mad Libs type fill-in-the-blank game. Except it’s not funny. If your note’s anything like your life, leaving yourself so unde-fined will let others describe who you are, and you may not like what they write in your empty spots.

You may feel discomfort, but don’t resent Venus’ charge through Leo this summer. If you use it well, you’ll learn better to define yourself. Let Leo light that fire under your tush: don’t wait for the world to respond to you — get out and do. Write in your own ad-jectives, dear.

And that’s the message of the cups. Cut bait and go home? Or keep fishing? You won’t really know until you take up your own worksheet, fill out some blanks, and decide if what’s there suits what’s left in the cups. If so, drink up!

Vale Venusita,

– Madame Z