A Mermaid is Meant to Merge
A love letter from my Pisces North Node, Neptune and Sun conjunction, and Pisces Goddess cluster (Ceres, Hecate, and Persephone)
The Mermaid - Virgo New Moon at 0° | 8/22/25
The Mermaid. The merge maid. The water. The porous water queen. The ocean. The womb. The everything and the nothing. The one who can't walk on dry land.
She's a mythical creature, and she lives here among us. She's inside many of us. She's inside of me, and she is one of my most prominent living archetypes. I have carried so much shame about her.
When I first began my healing journey, I was overwhelmed with the realization that I lacked boundaries. Like any good C-PTSD baby, I basically had none. I was living in a psychedelic field of the collective dumping ground. Swimming in it. Drowning in it. Choking in it. I was unsafe, yet I didn't know the difference.
Then I slowly started to. I began to notice who and what was making me unsafe (it is often everyone and everything at first). I started to internalize even more shame for my lack of boundaries. My boundaries improved, but I still wanted to merge.
See, the mermaid is meant to merge. She has a tail. She knows about swimming in deep waters. That is ALL she knows. She can breathe underwater. She can speak underwater. She can sing underwater. Underwater is where she belongs. She is at home in the ocean, in the collective unconscious.
And yet, a mermaid will become sick when she lacks discernment. Hello, Virgo.
A mermaid is meant to swim. She was born to swim. To merge. To become one with. She is a healer. She belongs in the waters. It is part of who she is.
But she cannot thrive in poisoned and unclean waters. (I literally broke out in a rash from contaminated bathwater last night.) She needs clean water to thrive. The Pisces and Virgo axis.
It is not shameful—though the Virgo South Node wants to tell us otherwise with its perfectionist criticism and shame about our "flawed" boundaries—that the mermaid wants to merge. It is dangerous for her when she merges with unsafe people, places, agreements, and ways of thinking, when she consumes unwell food. It makes the mermaid very sick.
When she becomes sick, she doesn't swim as well. She starts to flounder. Her tail becomes scaly. She feels like she doesn't belong in the very waters that make her a mermaid. She can't exist above land because she doesn't have feet. Yet she can't thrive underwater in sick waters. She begins to drown and choke even though she can breathe underwater—because the ocean she is swimming in is poisoned with trash.
She needs a clean, fresh ocean.
She feels like she is wrong. That she doesn't belong. That she needs fixing. That only if she never merged again would she be okay. But to not merge goes against her very constitution as a mermaid. She is meant to merge. She is meant to thrive underwater.
So on this Virgo New Moon, let the discernment of who and what and where is safe to merge come forward. It is your intuition and your self-trust that serve as a compass.
Trust. Yourself.
Like that dream I had of my toddler son drowning in the ocean, and I dove in because I was the only one who could swim so precisely and deeply to reach him. Trust yourself. He was choking on water, and it was coming up, and he was in my arms, and the water was coming up. I saved him. I dived in. No one else could. I saved myself.
Trust yourself. Trust yourself. Trust yourself.
Trust your dreams too—the mermaid speaks to you through your dreams, through water, through your emotions, through the memories that surface in your dreams.
A mermaid is meant to merge.
This might show up as recognizing clients who aren't the right fit, friends who don't have your best interests at heart, or spaces that drain rather than nourish you.
The mermaid knows: discernment is not betrayal of her nature—it is honoring it.
Stephanie Brumfield, LCSW #132296
Spiritual Depth Psychotherapist, Astrologer, and Energy Alchemist
fourthhousetherapy.com