The Messy Lesbian, the Saturn Return, and the Search for Chosen Family

A book launch for Kim Narby’s Saturn Returning at Books Are Magic became a larger conversation about queer adulthood, chosen family, emotional chaos, and the people who remain after the spiral burns out.

Back in March, I worked as a realtor on an apartment in Brooklyn Heights that was such a good offer my broker called it a Unicorn Deal. Unfortunately, because this deal had so many moving parts and many other boring real estate factors I won't bore you with, this Unicorn Deal turned into more of a cursed deal. This past Tuesday night, I returned to Brooklyn Heights for a book launch of Kim Narby's newly debuted book Saturn Returning, hosted by Books Are Magic at 122 Montague St. I was understandably triggered by the area, but luckily the event felt like a safer, nourishing environment.

The novel is a coming-of-age queer narrative about three young women, Jordan, Trace, and Silvia, and their growing friendship during their freshman year of college at McCallen College, a fictional “Midwest Ivy.” The tides shift over the following 10 years, when Saturn really returns, and the three are pulled into a love triangle that drags up buried secrets, testing whether the bonds of their chosen family can truly withstand it all.

The term was definitely new to me. As one of the queer women I spoke to afterward explained, a Saturn Return is like a “cosmic performance review.” When Saturn completes its orbit around the sun and returns to the exact position it was in at the moment of your birth, every 27 to 29 years, people can experience intense growing pains meant to strip away what isn't working so they can build a foundation for the next 30 years of their life. I'm sure we can all relate to a rocky end to our 20s. Some of us were deeply shaken when 30 hit and had to reassess things, regardless of our preparedness or social position. Astrology apparently had an explanation for that.

The talk mapped out familiar topics within queer life, such as the grit of chosen family and the blurry lines between friendship and romance, especially for a young adult in a big city. These characters actually met in the Midwest before moving to Seattle and New York. What was less familiar to me was an understanding of Seattle, or the witchy, astrological lens through which these women viewed their lives. Narby even mentioned Silvia pulling tarot almost daily as a way to keep that energy flowing.

I'm really not the witchy-horoscope-what's-your-sign type of gay. Frankly, I kind of roll my eyes when I hear any “Spiritual-Lite” slang. But it was interesting not being in my element. I pride myself on being a queerdo who is open-minded and seeks out different nexuses within my community. I was bound to learn something at an event where queer women hold the mic and take over.

The event at Books Are Magic was a welcoming one. The space really gave off that local queer bookstore vibe: a well-designed, colorful space with very friendly staff. It was a small but warm queer gathering. Even though I was not the main audience, I felt a queer narrative was confidently presented as “normal,” “messy,” and “digestible.” I was definitely there for the conversation about chosen family, being a messy lesbian, their words, and the intricacies of coming of age, college, and big gay cities.

I really stood out as not being one of the messy lesbians. But as a 36-year-old queer person who may have been a messy gay in his youth, that resonates with me. I really liked that the word messy kept coming up during the talk. Growing up as a queer person, you don't really have the clear examples needed to navigate friendships and romances the way our straight counterparts do. I remember the relationships I had with the people I came of age with, including the messy, problematic, and even toxic patterns they exhibited. At that age, we are always trying to gauge what healthy, responsible relationships actually look like just to feel like we’re on the right track. I genuinely enjoyed doing that work. I had a strong single mother constantly giving me positive messages about independence and self-worth. I was also in therapy, thanks City College. But I still knew I didn't inherit a blueprint for “this is what my relationships are meant to feel and look like.” I had to craft that myself, and I liked putting in that effort because I felt ownership over those bonds, my mistakes, and my decision to learn from it all.

Testing and pushing certain relationships with the homies, approaching things with a genuine open heart and open mind, that was my strategy in the early stages of adulthood. How else are we supposed to figure out whether what we say we want, and what we practice in relationships, is actually what we want? How are we supposed to know which friendships, partners, and family members are worth putting the work into? Anyone can hang for the spiral, for the party, for the mess. But if you're actually willing to see the truth as it's shown to you, only time and experience will reveal who is worth investing in for the morning after.

My version of chosen family might look different from Narby's, but I'm sure we could share stories about that time in our lives that really shaped how we want to tackle the next 30 years before the next Saturn return. Think about who showed up for your spiral. Now think about who's still here. That's your chosen family.