09/10/2025
Part 4 of my 12th House Series
I plan on splitting this post into two parts because my 4th House is full, and there’s a lot to cover. Sorry that it took me SO long- it's a heavy topic and I've been so incredibly busy 😅
The 4th House in astrology is all about our roots, home, family, and ancestral patterns. Positioned at the very bottom of a natal chart, it carries underworld, subterranean, basement vibes- a space where childhood memories are stored, along with the stories of our caregivers and ancestors. It represents our lineage, upbringing, and the life we lead behind closed doors.
It’s an incredibly personal and private house- our deepest emotional core. This is the foundation of our chart- the ‘seat of the soul’- reflecting our self, emotional base, and family roots. It links ancestry, home, upbringing, and the unconscious mind, guiding how we create security, nurture ourselves and others, and integrate our heritage into our identity.
As a Leo Rising, I have Scorpio on my 4th House, which creates a striking contrast: my outer self shines brightly, demanding visibility, while my inner world is intensely private, secretive, and emotional. With Saturn and Pluto here, my home and family life carried deep lessons about power, control, and responsibility. Venus here adds a yearning for emotional nourishment and understanding- a love that sees all of me, not just the version that’s easier for others to accept.
Those planets- Venus, Saturn, and Pluto- form a stellium. A stellium occurs when three or more planets occupy the same house or sign. Some astrologers don’t include generational planets like Pluto in stelliums, but I believe every planet in a house or sign contributes to the dynamics, as long as it’s close in degrees to the others.
A stellium shows where your soul’s purpose is concentrated. This cluster of celestial energy amplifies the traits and themes of that house or sign, influencing your life with focus, intensity, and profound lessons. In my chart, the 4th House stellium is a place of power and a defining part of my personality- where some of my deepest challenges and greatest growth converge.
From a young age, I knew that I wasn’t being loved the way I needed. Sure, my bare minimums were met- meals on the table, a roof over my head- but emotional safety was rare.
My father’s moods were so unpredictable that safety wasn’t about people, it was about ABSENCE. I felt most at ease when the house was empty, when I could breathe without the tension of wondering what version of him I’d get. I spent a lot of my time alone in my bedroom, learning to navigate my world quietly- anticipating emotions before they erupted, tiptoeing through tension, and guarding my own feelings closely. Capricorn gets stereotyped as independent and self-reliant, but I think it’s really our difficult childhoods- the pressure to grow up too fast, to parent ourselves- that carve those qualities into us. Growing up with a family I couldn’t fully trust meant learning to navigate life on my own, to parent myself emotionally, and to find structure and stability from within.
I think many Millennials might relate to having their Boomer parents not see them for who they really are and instead see them as an extension of themselves. Both of my parents have their Pluto in Leo, while mine (and most Millennials) have their Pluto in Scorpio; these two placements could not be more different, and it definitely caused some major clashing in our household.
Pluto in Leo (the Boomer generation) is tied to pride, control, and the need to be seen as “special”. These people thrive on authority and can carry an unspoken expectation that others fall in line (anyone else’s parents overuse the phrase, “My way or the highway?”). My father embodied this: charming and magnetic in public, but volatile and domineering at home. His authority wasn’t to be questioned, and when I pushed back- a natural response for someone with my Leo placements and my Mars in Libra, who can’t abide injustice- it was met with punishment.
Pluto in Scorpio (the Millennial generation) is almost the complete opposite of Pluto in Leo- we’re here to strip away the illusions, expose what’s hidden, and transform what’s rotting in the shadows. I was literally wired to see dysfunction and couldn’t just swallow it quietly.
This generational clashing- Pluto in Leo clinging to power and image, Pluto in Scorpio demanding honesty and transformation- played out in my home as a battle of control. He wanted obedience; I was meant to unravel toxic patterns (even if I didn’t realize this until adulthood). What felt like chaos in my childhood now makes sense through the lens of astrology: I was literally born into a cycle-breaking role, carrying the task of confronting what my parents couldn’t see in themselves.
My 4th House stellium in Scorpio- Venus, Saturn, and Pluto- amplified these dynamics. Saturn taught me boundaries and responsibility, showing me the weight of power in relationships and family dynamics. Pluto demanded that I face the hidden truths of my household and confront patterns that ran deeper than I could see at the time. Venus added the yearning to be truly seen and loved for all of me- not just the parts that were convenient or acceptable. These energies shaped me into someone capable of navigating the shadows of human emotion, transforming pain into understanding, and turning personal history into wisdom.
Having a Scorpio stellium means that nothing in my life stays at the surface level. I’ve joked before that I don’t need moldavite crystals to transform my life- I am moldavite. Growth is uncomfortable, intense, and sometimes brutal, but it always leads to profound transformation. The experiences that once felt isolating or harsh have become tools, shaping my capacity for empathy and emotional depth. My 4th House is the space where I was meant to break cycles, heal ancestral wounds, and eventually share the stories and wisdom I’ve gained.
Rebirth comes in layers. It’s about leaving behind the conditioning and patterns of the past while carrying forward the wisdom that those lessons offered. Each cycle of shedding, integrating, and stepping into my power almost feels like an old friend- inevitable yet familiar. When I stop resisting and meet it with awareness and adaptability, the reunion becomes a conscious meeting instead of a battle.
For anyone with a Scorpio 4th House or heavy 4H energy, here’s the truth I wish I’d known sooner: your intensity, your depth, and even the ways you struggle with trust and vulnerability are not flaws- they’re your power. Transformation is not optional; it is your path. And while it hurts, while it sometimes leaves you unrecognizable even to yourself, it always shapes you into someone capable of healing, nurturing, and guiding others in ways that few can. The work of the 4th House is never done, but it’s always worth it.
