Santa Clarita, California
The Place of Others, and the Root of Responsibility
"Santa Clarita gave me roots—but also the ache that comes when your spirit knows it’s time to fly."
Before we talk about my rebirth in Valencia, Spain, we have to go back to the original Valencia—Valencia, California. That’s where I was born. And I grew up just outside of it, in a place locals call Canyon Country, part of the larger Santa Clarita Valley. And if you know Santa Clarita, then you know: which part of the valley you're from matters. So for the record—yes, I’m a Canyon Country girlie through and through.
The astrocartography lines that run closest to where I was born are a Sun–Descendant / Lilith–Descendant paran. Both are on the Descendant angle, which means their energy plays out in the realm of relationships, other people, and how we show up for them. The Sun is identity and vitality. Lilith is the raw, untamed feminine—shadowy, powerful, often misunderstood.
And I can say this clearly now: my life in Santa Clarita was never really mine.
I never prioritized my own wants or needs while living there. That’s not to say I wasn’t allowed to—I made those choices. But the energetic pull of that place encouraged me to live in orbit around others.
As a kid, I lived with my dad and my brother. After my parents divorced when I was nine, my dad—who was a firefighter—had primary custody. We lived near my grandparents, my great-aunt and uncle, and all my cousins. Our family was tight-knit and loving, but also very much defined by duty.
Because my dad was often gone for four or five days at a time working shifts, I stepped into a caretaker role early. I was nine, running the household—doing laundry, managing grocery lists, paying bills. Yes, literally paying bills. My dad taught me how to forge his signature so I could sign checks, permission slips, and doctor’s notes. I had my own debit card tied to an allowance so I could make sure my brother and I were always provided for. It wasn’t even a question.
Then, after graduating from American University, I moved back to Santa Clarita. My brother had just deployed to Afghanistan, and he asked me to help take care of his son. At the same time, my dad’s addiction was worsening. My mom gently suggested I come home—to help with my dad, to be there for the family, and to make sure my nephew stayed connected to our side.
And so I did. Again.
Because that’s what I always did in Santa Clarita: take care of other people.
That’s the Descendant energy. The Sun asked me to give my identity to others. Lilith added an edge of sacrifice, invisibility, even anger. These weren't years of victimhood—these were years of quiet strength, of choosing service, of living for others without knowing what it meant to live for myself.
Santa Clarita was where I learned resilience. Responsibility. Loyalty. It's where I shaped so much of who I am, but it’s also where I gave so much of myself away.
And when I finally left—when I began listening to what I wanted, what I needed—that’s when my astrocartography started leading me elsewhere.
To places where I could reclaim my identity.
But it all started here, in this valley. In Canyon Country. With Sun and Lilith on the Descendant. In the place where I first learned how much I could hold.
Curious how your own journey might be written in the stars? Whether you’re navigating a big move, a career transition, or simply want deeper insight into the energies shaping your path, I’m here to help. Reach out to explore your unique astrocartography map and uncover what the universe has in store for you. Let’s discover your story together.