Lilith in Scorpio. Since March, Lilith in Scorpio has pushed us toward evolution by forcing us to confront our greatest fears—themes related to shame, control, darkness, toxicity, jealousy, possessiveness, and envy. For those who don’t know, in astrology Lilith symbolizes the shadow, the antagonist, or those parts of ourselves that we reject and project onto or criticize in others.
The ones most affected by this transit were millennials (those born during Pluto in Scorpio, 1983–1995), as well as people with planets in Scorpio, Taurus, Leo, and Aquarius.
In the final degrees of Lilith in Scorpio (which forms a trine with Jupiter in Cancer and with Saturn and Neptune in Pisces, but also an opposition with Uranus in Taurus, all retrograde), we can expect inner tensions or sudden collective impulses toward rebellion, but also a period of personal liberation, integrating the shadow in an original, intuitive, or creative way.
Lilith in Sagittarius. Lilith in Sagittarius will impact Generation Z (those with Pluto in Sagittarius) and individuals with planets in Gemini, Sagittarius, Virgo, and Pisces.
Lilith in Sagittarius, especially in this era of artificial intelligence, will bring themes regarding all shades of truth. It represents our collective journey from knowledge to paradox, from limiting beliefs to healthy convictions, from truth to illusion (maya).
If under Lilith in Scorpio we needed to use our minds to make sense of intense emotions, in Sagittarius we must do the opposite—use emotion and intuition to discern what is true (especially the personal truth). Inspired by the transit of Lilith in Scorpio (which has moved through my 11th, 12th, and now 1st houses) and by its December 20 ingress into Sagittarius (as part of a stellium that will cut across my destiny axis), I decided to write my dissertation for the completion of my integrative psychotherapy training about the Shadow, archetypes, and rituals. The paper was aptly titled “The Anti-Heroine’s Journey: The Path from Artificial Intelligence to Native Intuition and Back.”
In the first two subsections—“The Monomyth, the Bridge Between Primitive, Western, and Eastern Mythology” and “The Medusa–Perseus–Pallas Athena Myth: A Holistic Perspective”—I explore how, for today’s society, the hero’s journey (the monomyth) has become redundant, and the anti-hero’s journey has emerged as the new path toward the integrated self.
The personal chapter is written as a mythical uchronia, a reinterpretation of my life story that brings meaning to the suffering of my personal history and shows how the collective shadow (utopia/dystopia) becomes the guide or antagonist we need in order to transcend.
Just as values are the point of convergence between myths and culture, the saving solution lies neither in artificial intelligence nor in native intuition—but in the middle path between them.
Those close to me, and those I’ve worked with, know that I love data, statistics, and especially questionnaires (guess who has a Virgo stellium?)—so of course I couldn’t write a dissertation without an empirical component. The subsection “The Hofstede Model: The 6 Cultural Dimensions of Contemporary Society” was written in the energy of Lilith in Sagittarius (Sagittarius being the sign of culture, collective values, and truth) and presents an empirical analysis of data from 119 countries across Europe, Asia, Africa, the Americas, and Oceania, connecting psychological and symbolic aspects with cultural ones.
Through Geert Hofstede’s work, I essentially gave shape and dimension to the collective shadow. By understanding the dimensions of the antagonist—the collective shadow—it transforms into a guide for integration.
In the 1960s, Geert Hofstede, a Dutch mechanical engineer (who later studied organizational psychology and sociology), worked in IBM’s human resources department, where he collected and analyzed over 100,000 questionnaires from employees in more than 70 countries. Although the initial purpose was to assess employee satisfaction with organizational climate, Hofstede discovered that responses were influenced by how individuals perceived community, authority, uncertainty, social values, and success.
Using IBM data gathered between 1967 and 1973, he identified four fundamental cultural dimensions, published in the first edition of his book Culture’s Consequences (1980):
Power Distance – the extent to which inequality is accepted and expected in a society;
Individualism vs. Collectivism – the level of interdependence within a society;
Uncertainty Avoidance – how a society manages ambiguity and anxiety about the future;
Masculinity vs. Femininity – competitive, success-oriented values vs. quality-of-life and solidarity–oriented values.
Later, Hofstede and other researchers extended the model to six dimensions, as published in Cultures and Organizations: Software of the Mind (1991, 2010):
Long-term vs. Short-term Orientation – attitudes toward tradition, planning, and the future;
Indulgence vs. Restraint – how societies regulate desires and impulses.
The “Masculinity vs. Femininity” dimension was later reframed as Motivation toward Achievement and Success, because the original wording created confusion with gender and clashed with modern diversity standards.
Hofstede illustrated culture as an onion: the outer layers (symbols, heroes, rituals) are visible, while the core consists of fundamental societal values. His work has profoundly influenced intercultural understanding, leadership, negotiation strategies, business practices, and social psychology research.
Using his model, I analyzed data from 119 countries (Europe, Asia, Africa, the Americas, Oceania). Highlights include:
Highest Power over Distance scores appear in African and Asian countries, where inequality is accepted and hierarchy is a necessity. Europe and North America are mostly individualistic, while Africa, followed by Asia and South America, are collectivistic. Oceania, Africa, and North America show high scores in Indulgence, while Asian countries are more restrictive. Nordic countries score low on Uncertainty Avoidance—they are flexible and curious in the face of ambiguity. Greece (100), Portugal, Malta, Moldova, and Belarus score extremely high on uncertainty avoidance. Africa and South America score lowest on Long-term Orientation. Oceania and North America score highest on Motivation toward Achievement and Success, while Nordic countries are the most consensus-oriented.
These scores reveal the collective shadow (utopia/dystopia) of each society. Understanding the antagonist’s dimensions makes transformative and confirmatory trials easier to navigate.
For example, both Romania and the UAE have similar Indulgence scores (20 and 22). This may seem counterintuitive—how can a post-communist society resemble one of the richest in the world? The answer lies in culture (Islamic values of modesty and frugality) and history (a collectivistic society centered on community and honor). If we consider the five emotional wounds, individualistic, competitive cultures (e.g., USA) tend to embody rejection and injustice; collectivistic, hierarchical cultures (e.g., much of Asia) manifest humiliation and abandonment; and balanced, feminine cultures (e.g., Nordic countries) actively work to heal betrayal. Romania scores high on Power Distance and Uncertainty Avoidance (hierarchical and normative society), medium on Individualism and Motivation toward Success, and low on Long-term Orientation and Indulgence (a shame-based culture). Therefore, the dominant wounds in Romanian culture are abandonment, humiliation, and injustice. Healing these wounds and integrating the cultural shadow happens through values. Progress requires ingress; integration requires suffering.
Like shadow work, the anti-heroine’s (or anti-hero’s) story never ends. Her deep questions echo forward, becoming tomorrow’s answers, the foundation for an emerging culture, the continuation of cosmogonic myths through modern mythology. This technological revolution will force humanity to ask increasingly profound questions.
The future no longer belongs to those who know the answers, but to those who ask the questions.
And the future is being rewritten now, by us—those who work with the shadow of the past.
Orange is the new Black. During these past two years of integrative psychotherapy training, I set out on the hero’s path, only to realize I was never a heroine, but actually an anti-heroine. And this truth acted like a pair of handcuffs through which I finally set myself free. Integrity is the value of anti-heroes. In a world that builds statues and pedestals for heroes, no one teaches us how to be human. While heroes are deified for their moral models and their mastery of two worlds, anti-heroes transcend both worlds through humanization and creative tension.
Integrity is a timeless value that teaches us to seek and find the middle path. For every cultural dimension, there is a middle path:
Power Distance: not hierarchy nor autonomy—but consultation and consent.
Individualism vs. Collectivism: not self-centered individualism nor fear-based collectivism—but community rooted in relational autonomy, respect, and shared meaning.
Motivation towards success: not competition nor excessive consensus—but collaboration and co-creation through creative tension.
Uncertainty Avoidance: not dogma nor chaos—but adaptive creativity in a constantly changing world.
Long-term Orientation: preserving traditions that nurture the future.
Indulgence vs. Restraint: sustainable satisfaction of needs without compromising future generations.
When I enrolled in my PI foundational training, I saw healing as finding something I lacked. I never imagined it would be about integrating something already within me. My life has always spoken through symbols, but the most important lesson came from two strangers in the metro, on my way to and from ARPI.
In the second module, I met Maisa, a beautiful little half-Algerian girl with whom I had instant chemistry, in whom I saw my younger self. She sat next to me and told me her religion teacher would not allow her to attend class because she was Muslim. I instantly thought of Mrs. Flori, who made me love the God of all religions—the loving God beyond dogma.
As I wondered what the purpose of this meeting was, she made a little heart with her hands right before the metro doors closed. I took her tiny gesture as divine confirmation that I was on the right path.
In the last module, on my way home, I met a man who looked strikingly like my father in his youth and who, unfortunately, was heavily intoxicated.
That day we had discussed transfer, counter transfer, and the needs associated with each, including the need for idealization, the one I believed my father fulfilled. The facilitator’s questions made me reconsider that belief. And then came this stranger:
“Why do you think we met here? Do you think it’s random? Tell me—do you believe in God? I know it doesn’t look like it, but I’m very, very smart…”
He didn’t just look like my father—he spoke exactly like him.
After projecting in him rejection, addiction, and abuse, I realized something profound: young Alina loved her father so much that she chose to see only the good, building him a pedestal without realizing how deeply she lacked his reflection.
So deeply that now, as an adult, I still intoxicated myself with the reflections of others, refusing to accept and love myself as I truly am.
The revelation came only now, while writing these lines:
The little girl and the intoxicated man share the same value: authenticity.
Because “children and drunk men always tell the truth.” Yes, within me lives a child whose suffering is real. And within me also lives a parent who runs from pain through addiction. The adult sees their truths but chooses to rewrite and give new meaning to those truths. What good is inner truth if it isn’t reflected in external reality?
Emotional authenticity is not enough. I must use my mind to live from my heart.
Authenticity is only half of the journey.
I must act. I must use my inner truth to reshape my outer world. That is integrity: becoming the change you wish to see in the world,
a world where children are so accepted and loved that they don’t even know what religion is, a world where those struggling with addiction free themselves from the recurring burden, replacing the drug with self-love.