You are a person with a clear shape, and every so often a buried part demands to die off and come back new. The Sun squares Pluto, the settled identity wearing crosswise against the force that razes and rebuilds. Hold your shape and you fossilize a little. Transform and you dread not knowing your own face after. The toll was a biography full of breaks, where one version of you went under so the next could surface, and the people close by could not follow why you changed. Out of it came the refusal to cling to your own legend. Who you were already did its work. The freedom to change without asking your old self for permission is yours now.