I know exactly when I first heard about the Saturn return. 

It was at the end of the year 2016. 

And my life was never the same. 

Upon learning about the Saturn return, I promised myself that I wouldn’t let this transit affect me the way it did affect the people surrounding me. 

I was going to be ready for it—prepared, cool, calm, and collected. I would even become an astrologer to prevent bad things from happening. 

Well. 

It worked. But not how I envisioned it. 

My Saturn return was hard. Really hard. 

And when it FINALLY ended, I understood that knowing about something is not the same as being prepared for it. 

I also learned that bad things happen, period. There are some strategies we can implement to navigate them, but it’s impossible to stop them from happening. 

The good news is that, during this process, I incorporated tons of astrological and practical knowledge to deal with the hardships of life. 

But for now, I just want to share a little bit of my story. 

I hope this helps. And remember, you’re not alone. 

***

A few days before Christmas in 2016, my friend M told me he was dating J.

We had this conversation in our hometown. 

J was a psychologist, an astrologer, and a cook. A Gemini sun with multiple interests.

I was happy for M when he told me about his new relationship. 

And I also felt envious. 

I wanted to be J. I wanted to be doing fun and stimulating stuff. 

At that moment, I was 25 years old and didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. 

Astrology and writing weren’t a significant portion of my existence back then. 

At one point, M told me he would spend New Year’s Eve in the mountains. 

J’s family had a holiday house there, and he invited some friends to celebrate. 

He would cook ayurvedic dishes, and everyone would stay there for a couple of days, breathing the dry and fresh air of the natural surroundings. 

I got thrilled while listening to him. Most importantly, I didn’t want to spend New Year’s in my hometown. 

The plan of going to a mountain house with an astrologer and other fascinating people was attractive. 

***

My eight-year-old relationship with G was on a tightrope, especially after our recent trip to Río de Janeiro. 

I was so confused. 

My head felt foggy whenever I tried to think about what to do.

When thinking about breaking up with him, I feared the aftermath. 

I didn’t want to be alone, like being alone was some disease. 

When thinking about staying with him, I also felt afraid. 

I didn’t want the relationship to be stuck and dull. 

Both options terrified me, and I tried to distract myself by working as much as possible. 

In Río, I knew something was broken, but I didn’t know if it could be fixed.

But after the trip to Brazil, G told me that he wanted to recommit to our relationship. 

He told me he would prove that he wanted to be with me. He also told me that he could change and wanted to change. 

I decided to give him a second chance.

***

Babe, can I spend New Year’s Eve with you? And G, too, I added, quickly. 

I would love to! But let me talk about it with J, he answered promptly. 

I didn’t know if his interest was genuine or not. 

I didn’t care, either. 

When I left M’s natal home, I felt lighter. 

The brain fog was dissipating. 

I sensed that a new phase in my life would start soon. I didn’t know why I felt this way, but it was a complete certainty. 

***

Later that day, I got a message from M: 

Babe! We’ll wait for you in the mountains. 

YES! 

I would celebrate New Year’s in a beautiful location with new people. 

Immediately after receiving the message, I called G. I spoke, almost shouting, quickly and excitedly. 

He barely said anything, and when he did, his answers were brief. 

I realized that he didn’t want to travel. 

I didn’t care.

I wanted to take the trip, and he wanted to fix the relationship. 

This was the opportunity to do so. 

***

Oh, no! I forgot to ask my uncle for the GPS, he told me when we got into the car. 

(Mind you, this was before fancy cars came with GPS integration. Or at least my boyfriend didn’t have one of those.) 

Should we get it? I said. 

Nah. No need. I know how to get there, he said. 

Sure, honey, I said, and my seat belt clicked.

Three hours later, we got lost. 

We spun in circles for almost 45 minutes until he admitted he didn’t know how to get back on the right track. 

Then, I started experiencing a terrifying deja vù—he got lost in the exact same spot as on a previous trip, back in 2013.  

Why didn’t you get the GPS from your uncle? WHY? I said while looking at the road through the car window and shaking my hands.

You said it was OK! He said, looking at me and pointing at my chest. 

Because I thought you knew how to get there! I said, and then I started biting my nails while looking outside. 

Don’t do that, he said. 

And what do you want me to do!? The same SHIT again! I screamed. You want to recommit to the relationship, and then you do stupid shit, I screamed, without looking at him, eyes focused on the road. 

The thing is that you are SO strict, he said, also raising his voice. I’m always afraid of making a mistake, of not being enough! He added. 

I was mute for a second. 

If I am SO strict, why do you want to be with me? I said, this time piercing his eyes. 

He didn’t answer.

***

M came out to receive us. 

You are here! We were expecting you earlier, he said, smiling.  

Straight away, he noticed my face and staged a fake enthusiasm about how happy he was to see me. 

I’ll show you your room and introduce you to the rest, M said and hugged me. 

As he grabbed my backpack, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. 

My nose perceived mountain herbs, and there was no humidity.

I could breathe and think. The brain fog was receding.

Something smells nice, I said, like spicy, I added. 

J started cooking this morning because some dishes take forever, M explained.

We climbed the stairs in the living room to get to the other floor. 

There are no more full-sized beds available. Everything is taken, M said while I was watching the room and saying it was cute. 

No worries, babe, I said, we won’t sleep much because tomorrow we have to travel back. We both have to get back to work on Monday, I said. 

I’ll leave you alone so you can put on your swimsuits. I’ll wait for you by the pool, M said, already in the hall. 

Great, we’ll be there in a minute, I said.

I grabbed my backpack and started looking for my bikini. G sat on the single bed. His face was all frowny. 

***

The garden in the back had a kidney-shaped pool guarded with a fence. There were patches of grass, a fig tree, and another tree that offered great shadow.

Under this tree, there was a white plastic table with chairs. 

They are V and G, from my hometown, M said when we showed up in the garden. 

The six people under the big tree waved at us. We waved back. 

And they are R and J, M said, pointing at a girl wearing a lot of crystals on her chest and the house’s owner. 

R and J were standing inside the pool talking. Both waved their hands at us. 

Welcome, thank you for coming, J said. 

Thank you! Everything is so beautiful, I said. 

R is J’s astrology teacher, M explained and returned to the house.  

That is so cool! I said in a higher pitch than my usual one. R nodded frantically. 

G and I got into the pool. 

It is so lovely here, R said and put her head under the water for a few seconds. 

Really lovely, I said when she emerged. So you’re an astrologer, right? She nodded. 

Where are you from? She asked. 

We live in Rosario, I replied. 

And how old are you? She asked. 

I’m 25, I said. 

I’m 29, G said. 

Huh, 29, R said and looked at J knowingly.  

What about it? I asked. 

You are experiencing the first Saturn Return, R told my boyfriend. 

What’s that? I asked. 

It’s an astrological transit you experience when you are around 30 years old, J replied.  

It’s kind of a maturity crisis, where you are no longer a super young person. You’re not old, either. But you start to experience all this heaviness of life, and every decision seems more permanent. 

Silence. We all stayed quiet. 

How did you feel this last year? J asked my boyfriend. G looked at me with sad eyes.

You know what? I said. I’m gonna go help M with the food so you can talk freely, I said and got out of the pool. 

***

From the kitchen window, I could see G speaking effusively and moving his hands. Both R and J listened to him, nodded their heads, and offered some comments. 

Although I didn’t know what G thought or felt because he never told me explicitly, I knew how I felt. 

In 2016, he was completely distant from me. 

He was terrified of growing up, of taking significant steps. 

We had been together for a long time, and we couldn’t talk about moving in together or moving abroad or anything that implied a bit of commitment because everything scared him. 

Spending a Saturday night with me wasn’t an exciting plan. G would rather go out with a stranger than be with me. 

I’m not even kidding or exaggerating. 

He met 18-year-old guys in the elevator of his building and joined their parties as if he could grab onto the youth he felt slipping away from him. 

He was disorganized, forgetful, and all over the place.

In Río, the day of my birthday, he was in a bad mood and didn’t speak to me for most of the day. 

We got mugged on the beach (nothing serious), and he lost a lot of money and documents because he brought those with him to Ipanema, something I told him explicitly not to do. 

I don’t know what he replied to the astrologers. But I knew that I should check out this first Saturn return phenomenon. There was something there. 

***

After the conversation with J and R, my boyfriend’s attitude changed. He was sweeter and more devoted to me. 

I, on the other hand, was ready to call it quits. 

That was my New Year’s silent wish while we were toasting that night: 

Universe, please give me the strength to leave this relationship. Thank you.  

***

We left the mountain house on the first day of 2017 and drove home. 

Profuse rain was our companion during the whole trip. 

This year, I’ll need to move out of my apartment, he said. What if we move in together? And then we can start planning to move abroad, he added. 

I listened to him. But it wasn’t the same. I wasn’t the same. 

I no longer wanted any of that. Or, at least, I didn’t want any of that with him. 

It was too little, too late.

I have a nice job right now, so I’m not sure about moving abroad, I said.  

I understand, but moving in together? He practically begged. 

Let me think about it, I said and kept looking at the rain falling outside the car. 

***

I broke up with him in mid-January. 

Finally, no more brain fog. My thoughts were clear. 

But it was the most painful thing I had done in my life up until that point. 

It was also the best because that split opened up new opportunities for me that would not have existed otherwise. 

***

In 2017, while experiencing the grieving process, I moved abroad for a while and delved deeper into astrology. 

And in 2018, I delved even deeper. 

That year, I also dated another guy going through his first Saturn return. 

And he also told me that I was strict. He told me he didn’t want to have a serious relationship with me because he was afraid. 

I didn’t understand what he was afraid of.

So, I began to ask myself several questions. 

Why did the same thing happen to me TWICE with two people of almost the same age? 

Why were they treating me with disdain when I hadn’t done anything wrong to them? 

Why didn’t they want to build something for the future with me? 

That’s when my curiosity about the Saturn return spiked. There was something to learn, something I had to uncover.

So I rolled up my sleeves and got to work. 

I enrolled at the Faculty of Astrological Studies, devoured books, listened to podcasts, talked to friends about it, and read interviews with famous people who spoke about their 30-year-old crisis. 

In 2019, I launched a blog in Spanish, my native language. 

I was in the final stretch of my twenties and wanted to be well-prepared for my Saturn return, which would begin in 2020. 

I knew I could do it. 

I had to focus and complete all the necessary preparation so the return wouldn’t catch me off guard and confuse me like it did to other people.

***

When my first Saturn return began in March 2020, I thought, ‘This isn’t so bad.’ 

Sure, there was a pandemic, and the world was in shambles. 

But on a personal level, I was prepared, and my privileges allowed me to go through that turbulent year in the best possible way. 

I had remote work and started a romantic relationship. 

I didn’t want to be out on the streets. I wanted to spend all day at home eating, making love, and watching TV shows with my boyfriend. And that’s what we did.

The only problems I had during 2020 and 2021 were what Swifties call champagne problems. 

That is, not genuinely relevant problems. 

Mostly, I worried about what I would do with my future, what my life’s purpose was, if I was truly good as a writer, and how to nurture my projects to make them grow. 

Luckily, I allowed myself to let go of some harmful mandates inherited from my family thanks to therapy sessions over Zoom with my psychologist.

Of course, I didn’t know what life had in store for me. 

***

From 2017 to 2021, I learned about the Saturn return, prepared for it, and started transiting it in a relatively calm state compared to my friends. 

I had cultivated a frugal, minimalistic, and austere life, just like Saturn wants us to do. 

And then my maximalist, over-the-top, chaotic Sun in Leo’s dad passed away in January 2022. 

And then my existence took an unexpected turn.  

My dad’s death wasn’t just that. 

It wasn’t just grief, loss, a goodbye that felt premature. 

Actually, it brought a bunch of legal and financial problems to solve that I couldn’t have anticipated because they only surfaced due to his death. 

And these were big, scary problems. Not champagne problems. 

The information I have gathered about the Saturn return helped me survive this stressful period with (a little bit of) grace. 

But I realized that intellectual information helps you up to a point. 

There’s an abyss that needs to be sorted with other kinds of tools. 

I’m an astrologer. I love astrology, and it has helped me immensely, but it’s not enough. Other strategies must complement it. 

Following social media accounts about your Saturn return and filling yourself up with data and more data is not really helpful. 

You must engage your body in the process, not only the mind. 

***

2022 wasn’t 100 % horrible. 

I got a new corporate job that I loved (at that moment), I won a scholarship to attend a creative writing school in northern Italy, and I was gladly surprised when many people helped me out when I was in turmoil and stress. 

The following year, I was just catching my breath when my grandmother died. 

She was an essential figure in my life, the woman who raised me along with my parents. And, by the way, my dad’s mother. 

My grandmother passed away at the end of February 2023. It was the ending of her third Saturn return. 

It was the last straw of my first one.  

She was living in a nursery home with dementia. Her death also uncovered legal and financial issues. 

But the second time around I was more prepared. 

***

Feelings of sadness, agitation, discomfort, and doubt are not weird during the first Saturn return. 

This is a challenging transit. There is no sugarcoating the truth. 

But the good news is that I got your back. 

I care so much about the first Saturn return because it’s one of the most transformational times in a person’s life. 

If you start paying attention to people’s personal stories, you’ll notice that the first Saturn return is a portal that marks a before and after in someone’s life. 

But the universe will not handle this transformation to you on a silver platter. You have to be willing to engage in it to reap its rewards.  

Sometimes it will be painful. Dark. Discouraging. Somber. Gloomy. 

And even though I can’t swallow your pain or wave a magic wand and make everything better instantly, I can help you through this process. 

***

Over several years, I have gathered valuable tools for the first Saturn return and every problematic period of life. 

Some of these tools are astrological, while others are practical or philosophical. 

They serve different purposes, and once you are introduced to them, I’ll teach you which one to choose, depending on your situation. 

It may not look like it, but I’m very optimistic (I have four planets in Sagittarius!) 

However, I don’t follow toxic positivity. 

Sometimes life sucks. And it will suck for a while. But not forever. 

Even the darkest times offer a silver lining, while the brightest times have some darkness, too.

So, my friend, this is the place for you if you’re interested in a sobering, authentic, down-to-earth, approachable, and cosmic guide for the 30-year-old crisis. 

Thank you so much for your time. 

Remember, you are not alone. And we can get through this together.