Your identity wants a clean outline and something in you melts the second another face moves you. The Sun squares Neptune, the recognizable self grating against a compassion that dissolves edges. Assert yourself and unease creeps in. Thin yourself out and you lose your own name. For years you swung between fully present and nearly invisible, depending on who was in the room. Out of it came a signature that does not cost you your porousness. You can be unmistakable and still stay open to whatever walks in. What you grew into is a hospitality of self few ever reach: solid at the core, permeable at the skin.