A Libra longs for partnership, it is her heart’s
forever-wish; but to love a Libra, you must love her
completely.
A Libra will need space; she’ll need freedom to be
who she is in any given moment. She wants to suffer,
celebrate, hate and adore who she is. These things
are always changing and often conflicting, because
she’s constantly discovering new pieces of who she
is.
She’ll never tell you something critical
straightaway, instead she’ll sit with it until the
perfect words ring true in her heart and ever-so-
carefully move into her mouth. Even then, she might
write you a letter. Because the intensity of her
feelings can make the speaking of words such a task.
She loves words. She loves the magic they hold, the
way they can free her (and so few things can).
So to love a Libra, understand that the words always
matter—they are the brush strokes of her heart. She
won’t lie, she’s no good at it. She won’t brag, for
she holds words in too high esteem. Your words must
never be cheapened through unfulfilled promises or
patronization. If your speech is unkind, she’ll
remember and the words will never hurt less.
She’s an artist, through and through. But a Libra,
to survive in the world, must find her medium. The
words, or paints, the delicate, mindful crease of a
freshly-made bed—it’s all art to her. Beautiful
pieces of anything. She needs objects and sounds and
smells and textures to resonate with that place deep
inside that says, “Yes. That’s it, now it is exactly
right.” To love a Libra, you must know this.
She’ll need her art like you need your breath—
without it, she will lose track of who she is.
You must watch the curve of her mouth; her lips will
purse (ever-so-slightly) and when they do, you can
rest assured that her mind wanders because her heart
is not still. You’ll notice her eyes are far away;
in that moment, you must let her go there—to the
place where the words find their way to the air—but
not for too long. She’s always in danger of escaping
for too long.
She seeks stillness.
A Libra will love her body. She’ll hate her body
too. But you must love it, you must always love it.
You must look into her eyes and smile. Move her hair
from her face so you can get a better look. You must
touch the places that hardly get touched: her neck
as she does the dishes, her collar bone as she types
at her desk, her hip as you stand in line at the
grocery store. You must weave the ordinary with the
erotic. Slide your hands firmly over every inch of
her skin as if it were the first time you’ve ever
touched her. You must touch her. She’ll crave your
embrace and wither without it.
She needs romance. And so many kisses.
She needs to be whisked away to see the world and
she needs a comfortable home to return to.
She’ll cry. A lot. She’ll cry and you won’t know
what’s wrong. She won’t tell you what’s wrong, not
at first, because she might not know. There will be
times when she simply needs to feel sadness, she
needs to feel the struggle of being alive, even when
you both don’t understand.
Whatever it is, she feels it more.
The weight of her fears, her curiosities,
everything: of being human, of responsibility, of
hate and violence and injustice, of beauty and
lightness and breath, all of it. It frighteners her,
but amazes her too. So she’ll need time and space to
explore, to dance and to fall apart, because there
is nothing more lovely than a Libra experiencing the
world. She sees magic where others do not. She needs
to believe in magic. Ferociously.
And when she finally turns 30—when the leaves are
changing and she feels most herself—you’ll be
mindful of her feelings; because, even if it isn’t a
big deal, it is a big deal and the tears that stream
for no particular reason come from a place of shame
in her heart.
To love a Libra, you must celebrate; you must
celebrate her, life, the amazing, the plain,
everything and anything.
To love a Libra is to love the very essence of love,
warts and all.
There’s a delicate balance—a perpetual tug-of-war—
between feeling fierce and complete against feeling
soft and frail. Always trying to reach that
impossible balance, she never quite knows who she
is.
To compensate for the not-knowing she’ll please
everyone around her. She’ll accommodate others and
fix situations until you resent her for it; but, to
love a Libra is to see that her self-sacrifice, no
matter how destructive, is how she loves. Her
bleeding heart is how she finds her place in a world
that can be unkind; it’s the way she can claim some
shred of control—she believes that kindness is what
matters most.
A Libra needs you to push her toward self-care.
She’ll never choose her needs first, so you’ll have
to teach her this craft. You’ll need to teach her
that putting her needs before others is not the same
as selfishness, because she sees selfishness as
ugly.
Ugliness scares her.
Loneliness too.
Her heart will break often. Her heart will feel
lonely and sad about many things, but you must never
be the one to break it completely.
To capture a Libra’s heart is to capture her heart
forever. There are no partners more committed, more
attentive than your Libra. You mustn’t ever take her
for granted though; for a Libra’s heart will grow
uneasy when neglected, her heart will close and you
risk never finding your way in again.
Her heart knows the secret to everything. Protect
it.
Sometimes she’ll feel lost. She’ll
need hot tea and blankets, black-and-white movies,
and no conversation. Other times, she’ll need
people. Parties and midnight walks and deep,
frenzied conversation—she likes literature and
science and philosophy best. She likes whiskey too.
To love her, you’ll need to know that.
She’ll need constant reminders that she’s a lovely
being, that she’s loved—better yet, adored. She
needs mindful smothering, she needs adventure. A
Libra wants autonomy, but can’t stand the thought of
being left alone. You must learn to accept her, even
as a contradiction.
She’ll require decisiveness, as she has none of her
own. She’ll surprise you with spontaneity and you’ll
admire the commitment she shows to her heart’s
content. But if she has time to think, any decision
will be painful—be it where to eat, what to wear or
who to love. This will frustrate you, but you must
try understand. For her, there is no such thing as
an obvious choice.
Loving a Libra means loving love itself. She loves
everything about love: the connection, the
discovery, the heartache, the ecstasy, the very idea
of love—it’s all the same. She yearns for the safety
of partnership, but she thrives on the excitement of
love’s uncertainty.
She wants passion.
She can see the good in almost any person, but in a
lover she requires intelligence and humor. There is
nothing sexier than wit.
She hates discord, because it makes her feel
vulnerable; but to love her is not to worry too
much, because she believes in forgiveness and trust
—enough to repair almost any injury done to her.
When you fight with a Libra, she’ll be certain that
every fight is the end of everything and this will
destroy her a little; you must remind her that every
argument is an opportunity for growth—it is the
beginning of a new everything. Loving a Libra means
knowing there are few things more important than
make-up sex.
She loves falling in love, so to love a Libra you’ll
have to fall in love time and time again. She’ll
require perpetual evolution, and inspiration, and a
little dose of sin.
To love a Libra you’ll need to see the good
intention that she always has in her heart; to
ignore this well-meaning piece of her is to deny her
a personal truth. She cannot survive without this
particular truth. When she’s awful, or rude, or
arguing because she’s right—and she’s usually right,
because she’s a Libra and it’s in her nature to be
fair and just and indisputably right—you must
breathe. Then trust her tears and her words to be
true.
She cares too deeply to ever inflict intentional
harm.
But if you witness the flash of anger in her eyes,
you must let her rage. For gentle, compassionate
Libra will storm fiercely in the face of injustice.
You must allow her the space to be a warrior when
her heart tells her it is time to fight. You must
stand beside her, admire her devotion and believe in
the cause—see it for what it is, a manifestation of
her heart’s deepest purpose.
Believe in her and she’ll believe in you too.
She might be cast as an introvert. She might be
tagged an extrovert by those who know her best.
Neither matters, as long as she feels connected to
what surrounds her.
When a Libra is happy, she can take over the world.
She need only be equipped with the proper music,
laughter and her smile.
The trick is in keeping her there; for in that
moment is an ocean of contentment that only her huge
heart can appreciate. If you can keep her in the
moment, you can keep her forever. But the Libra mind
will drift and worry. It will linger on the wrong
that cut her too deeply. She will scrutinize over
the words you used, or the words that went unspoken.
She’ll wonder about security and what each embrace
or touch or quarrel will mean in the long-term; to
love a Libra, you must gently guide her back to the
now again and again and again.
Libra blossoms in the joyful now.
She believes in the goodness of people, in magic and
(above all else) in happily ever after.
To love a Libra, you must believe in her for
everything she is.
~ Sara Crolick
