The Star Always Appears After the Dark

Yesterday, I didn’t plan on getting a tarot card reading. But sometimes the universe doesn’t ask, it nudges.

I was at an event surrounded by vendors, when we walked past a tarot reading room. The first time, we just looked said should we and kept moving. The second time, I felt it. I was drawn, specifically to one woman in a red shirt. Not curious. Not entertained. Pulled.

So when the moment came, I sat down. She had me shuffle the deck with my eyes closed while she said a prayer, and the only thing running through my mind was my life. Every heavy question, every sleepless night, every please tell me this isn’t the end thought I’ve been carrying.

Is this going to be okay?

What am I supposed to do?

What do I need to let go of?

How do I fix this?

Am I going to be okay?

The first card she pulled was The Star.

Hope. Healing. Renewal. Not because everything is suddenly fixed, but because after devastation, hope still exists. The Star is the light that appears after the dark night of the soul. It doesn’t promise instant healing. It promises direction.

She told me my foundation had been shaken. That I was coming out of a hard time. That this card was encouragement, to stay grounded, trust my intuition, and listen to my gut.

The eight-pointed star on the card symbolizes balance between the spiritual and the physical. Guidance. Alignment. Regeneration. The ibis bird on the card represents sacred wisdom and intuition, knowledge that isn’t learned, but remembered.The message was clear, I already know what to do.

The second card she pulled was The Hanged Man (reversed).

Rebirth. A shift in perspective. A new way forward, but only if I’m willing to release the thing holding me upside down. This card spoke of sacrifice, but not forced sacrifice. Chosen release.

The cards were clear: when I’m ready, I have to disregard the thing that’s holding me back. I knew exactly what that meant.

The next card was The Eight of Wands

Fire. Momentum. Energy moving fast. Opportunity arriving quickly. This card isn’t slow growth. It’s ignition.

This is 716 Coven & Company.

The thing that already exists. The thing that survived chaos. The thing that’s ready to move, expand, and catch fire once I stop hesitating releasing the thing that is holding me back.This card wasn’t asking if it would work. It was telling me when I’m aligned, it moves fast.

Then she pulled the Page of Wands.

At first, I thought this was just more fire energy but the realization came after I sat with it. 

The Page of Wands is curiosity. New territory. Learning as you go. Sales, conversations, people, opportunities that come from showing up and trying.

This card is SalonXtensions.

A newer venture. A relationship-driven business. Something I’m still learning, still growing into, still building confidence around. The Page of Wands card doesn’t have all the answers yet, but she has excitement, courage, and willingness. And that’s exactly where I am with it. One business is established and ready to run. The other is new and asking me to step forward without fear. Together, they make sense.

The final tarot card was the Two of Pentacles, pulled as advice.

Balance. The reader told me I’m juggling a lot. I’m navigating rough waters, but the waves are behind me, not ahead. Still, the question the card asked was important:

How long can you keep this up for? 

I can manage it, but I can’t do it disconnected from myself.

After the reading, she brought out three oracle decks and asked me to choose one. The deck I picked was titled: W.I.T.CH. I mean like what!?! She said ah the witch deck

A Woman in Total Control of Herself.

The card I pulled was Disciple of Ritual (40).

This was the card that sealed it. It didn’t talk about hustle or success. It talked about remembrance. That I am connected to everything that sustains me. That forgetting this connection is how we diminish ourselves.That remembering it is part of our empowerment.

Air.

Water.

Fire.

Earth.

Things that didn’t cost me anything—but give me everything. The card spoke of gratitude as alignment. Ritual not as performance, but as maintenance. A reminder that spirit lives in all things, not just humans.

Ritual doesn’t have to be elaborate.

It can be prayer.

A candle.

A song.

A quiet moment of stillness.

What matters is pausing long enough to remember where your strength comes from.Now is the time for ritual. Not because I’m lost, but because I’m crossing into something new.

2025 was about shedding old skin.

The Year of the Fire Horse begins February 17, a year that demands release before momentum, courage before comfort, fire before forward motion.

Some things are changing. Some things are beginning. And for the first time in a long time, I trust where I’m headed.

The Star always appears after the dark.

And I’m finally ready to follow it.