Man, I’ve seen some things when it comes to relationships, especially the Venus in Pisces types. You wanna know why I’m talking about this? Because my own life, and the lives of nearly every friend I’ve had since college, turned into a live-action soap opera, and somehow, Venus in Pisces was always in the director’s chair, pulling strings.
The Start of the Mess
I remember back in my early twenties, I fell head over heels for someone who had Venus in Pisces. Didn’t know what that even meant then, just knew they were… different. Like, they lived in a dream world, a beautiful one, but still a dream. Everything with them was about feeling, about soul connections, about grand romantic gestures that sometimes made no sense in reality. We’d spend hours just talking about what ifs, about our deepest fears and wildest fantasies. It was intoxicating. And completely disorienting. I thought, “This is it, the real deal, the kind of love they write songs about.”
We dove in. Headfirst. No second thoughts. She just understood things without me saying them, picking up on my vibe before I even knew what my vibe was. It was like living inside a poem, all swirling emotions and deep, unspoken connections. I’d never felt so completely seen, so utterly accepted for all my rough edges and weird thoughts. She just embraced it all, smoothed it over with her gentle, dreamy way. Everything was soft, diffused, like looking through misty glass. And I loved it. For a while.
Watching It Play Out, Over and Over
But then, things started getting hazy. Boundaries? What boundaries? My stuff became their stuff, their problems became mine, and vice versa. It was like we dissolved into one big mushy entity. If I was happy, they were ecstatic. If I was stressed, they felt it ten times worse. I thought that was amazing at first, this level of connection. But then I saw my buddy, Mike, going through something similar. His girl? Venus in Pisces too. He’d tell me stories, almost identical to mine. One minute she’s his absolute muse, the next she’s crying because a bird flew into a window, and he’s totally lost on how to fix it because her sadness was so overwhelming.
It wasn’t just my direct relationships, either. I kept seeing this pattern. Another friend, Sarah, totally practical, down-to-earth, she hooks up with this artist, super sensitive, you guessed it, Venus in Pisces. She’d complain, “He gets so dramatic over nothing! He’s always escaping into his art or just… daydreaming.” But then she’d turn around and say, “But he understands me in a way no one else ever has. He just gets it.”
I started keeping tabs, almost unconsciously. Every time someone mentioned feeling like their partner was ‘too sensitive,’ or ‘living in their own world,’ or ‘just knew what I needed without me saying it,’ I’d ask, “When’s their birthday?” And more often than not, it lined up. It wasn’t science, just my own messy observations from the trenches of real-life dating and friend dramas.
The Dizzying Highs and Confusing Lows
What I started noticing was this push and pull. Venus in Pisces, whether it was my partner or my friends’ partners, they lived for that emotional connection, that fairytale. They’d idealize you, put you on a pedestal. And man, that felt good. You felt seen, truly seen, like a beautiful, fragile soul. They’d forgive almost anything, because they’d see the ‘good’ in you, the potential, the dream version. But that also meant they could be easily hurt, easily disillusioned. If reality didn’t match the fantasy, it was a huge crash. Not a little bump, a full-on emotional wreckage.
Here’s what I kept seeing happen:
- They’d completely absorb your moods. If you were down, they went deeper. It was contagious, in a way.
- They wanted to save you, fix you, even if you didn’t need saving. Sometimes, they’d try to carry your burdens until they themselves collapsed.
- They struggled with concrete plans. Everything felt fluid, changeable. “Let’s just see where the wind takes us,” which sounds romantic until you need to book a flight.
- Sometimes, they’d just disappear into their own world, not intentionally, but just float away, leaving you wondering what you did wrong.
I remember one time, my girl with Venus in Pisces just took off for a weekend, no phone call, nothing. Just a note saying she needed to “find herself” by the ocean. I was freaking out! When she came back, she was like, “Oh, did you worry? I just needed to feel the vastness, connect with the universal energy.” And I was like, “What about my energy, waiting by the phone, worried sick?!” It felt like two different languages colliding. I was on solid ground, she was in the deep ocean.
The Big Takeaway, Finally
Over the years, watching these relationships unfold, I finally pieced it together. It wasn’t about being ‘good’ or ‘bad’ compatible. It was about understanding the nature of that love. It’s a love that transcends, that dreams, that feels everything. It’s not grounded in logic, it’s grounded in intuition and emotion, in a spiritual kind of connection. If you try to box it in with practical rules, it just gets suffocated. But if you let it breathe, let it flow, it can be the most profound, healing connection you’ll ever have. It’s like trying to hold water in your hands; you gotta let it just be. They need a partner who can be a gentle anchor, not a heavy chain. Someone who can appreciate the dream, but also gently remind them of the ground beneath their feet, without bursting their bubble or making them feel stupid for feeling what they feel.
I saw couples thrive when the non-Venus Pisces partner learned to speak that emotional language, learned to appreciate the subtle shifts, the deep empathy, and didn’t try to ‘fix’ the dreaminess but rather, embraced it. It’s a love that asks for immense compassion and patience, and for you to let go of needing everything to make perfect logical sense. Because with Venus in Pisces, love isn’t logical; it’s a feeling, a tide that pulls you in deep, and you either learn to swim with it, or you get swept away. It’s beautiful, it’s messy, and it’s always, always deep.
