To love a Libra you’ll need to see the good intention that she always has in her heart; to ignore this well-meaning piece of her is to deny her a personal truth. She cannot survive without this particular truth. When she’s awful, or rude, or arguing because she’s right—and she’s usually right, because she’s a Libra and it’s in her nature to be fair and just and indisputably right—you must breathe. Then trust her tears and her words to be true.
She cares too deeply to ever inflict intentional harm.
But if you witness the flash of anger in her eyes, you must let her rage. For gentle, compassionate Libra will storm fiercely in the face of injustice. You must allow her the space to be a warrior when her heart tells her it is time to fight. You must stand beside her, admire her devotion and believe in the cause—see it for what it is, a manifestation of her heart’s deepest purpose.
Many a times when I come across articles associated with Libra and all the unique elements that encompass Librarians, I can’t help but nod in agreement to the bulk of characteristics mentioned. I find myself resonating to what a Libra is supposed to be, and this acknowledgement scares me. it scares me to know that I am no more than another like Libra without any distinct feature.
That being said, I still embrace the fact that I am a Libra.