My stalker

I deal with Plutonians a lot (definition of Plutonian: people with a LOT of Scorpio and/or a strong Pluto in their charts). For the record, and right off the bat, I don’t think being Plutonian is a bad thing IF you use the energy correctly and are willing to work to build yourself and others up rather than tearing yourself or them down. Plutonians are some of the most dedicated people you’ll ever know, and they make devoted friends as long as you can handle their intensity.

If you know any Plutonians personally, you may have noticed that they can become obsessed with a person, place, or a thing that captures their attention and they will keep learning or following or deconstructing or…whatever...that person, place, or thing. They are obsessive by nature but can learn to calm down with time and maturity, especially if they overtly decide to pursue maturity, which they will then do pretty relentlessly.

Having said those things, I will now stop using disclaimer language (I’m trying not to piss off Plutonians) and tell you a story. My ex-boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend is Plutonian: 3 planets (including the sun) and the south node of the moon in Scorpio. She dated my ex *after* I dated my ex, meaning that I’m sure he regaled her with stories about me. I have a couple of guesses about why I became a point of fascination for her, which I am not dumb enough to mention in a public forum. I also have a few stories of her attempting to copy me in strange ways in her attempt to figure out why I was so special.

You know what else I have plenty of? Outstanding social media friend/follow requests from her. Ten years ago, when she made such a request for the bajillionth time, I wrote her an exasperated note: something to the tune of “you don’t even know me. We were never friends. I haven’t seen you since 2002. Why do you want to be friends so badly?” She never responded, and now I leave the requests pending so she can’t send more. But guys: she came up in my TikTok suggestions because *she* has my number in *her* phone. I don’t have the same phone number from when I dated my ex! After all this time, she somehow and for some reason STILL has my different number in her phone. I don’t think she’s ever called me, but I wouldn't know, because I have no idea what her number is.

I don’t think she’s found me here, but I am aware that there’s a Plutonian or two who stops by to check in and make sure I’m not telling any of *their* stories.

If you have someone who acts similarly in your periphery, it’s best to be as uninteresting as possible and to limit what they can see of your online presence. If you can disappear entirely from social media, that’s probably for the best. Thrive privately.

In my own Plutonian ways, I have become the reverse of this (through hard work and determination): if someone’s out of my life, I don’t check up on them, contact them, think about them, or talk about them unless I’m telling a story and I remember they were in it. I told a few stories yesterday about one such person and then promptly had a nightmare featuring them, so that’s added incentive to never let them creep back into my consciousness. But this is the cleaner way of working with Plutonian energy: if they’re gone, they’re gone. If you have mixed feelings about someone who isn’t in your life anymore, do what you need to do to resolve those feelings: compulsive journaling, therapy, screaming at nothing…but resolve them. Then move on. I admire the type of people who say with all sincerity that they don’t want to burn bridges, and for me it’s not so much about the bridges as it is no longer feeding another person any energy, be it attention, affection, or time. I feel strongly about this! I’ve adapted over time from the obsessive Plutonian to the Plutonian who can let go. It took some work. It still takes work. But it’s worth it.

Further reading: Healing Pluto Problems by Donna Cunningham