shadow, in true Scarlett O'Hara fashion, is quite capable of starting quarrels among the competitors, just to get a little excitement generated. Playing one person off against another is common fare for the Libran shadow. It takes the form of either a casual mention - 'Oh, John was all over me at the party, he kept trying to convince me to leave you and go away with him. It was hard to say no, he's very handsome, after all.' Or a deliberate although unconscious arrangement where one competitor bumps into the other leaving/entering the flat, or dates are confused where two people arrive at once, orů. Well, you know the game. When you're embroiled in it, it's extremely painful. When you're the Libran who's got so insecure that you have to use your gifts of relationship to manipulate people in this way, it's very flattering. And when you're the observer, well, perhaps you feel a mixture of compassion and disgust, depending on your viewpoint.
What is it really about? Well, it stems, in part, from Libra's craving for approval. The need for affection and acceptance from others is a basic Libran need, and is most obvious in the fact that Librans usually hate being alone. They want and need companionship, not only of the romantic kind, but of the friendship kind as well. This game of flirtation and competition isn't only limited to sexual encounters. Librans do it to their friends, their business partners, even their parents. It's universal and isn't only limited to sexual insecurity. The only way Libra can confront his shadow is to first see it in operation, reflect on how it feels to be put in the situation oneself, consider the fairness (since nothing ever penetrates a Libra's mind without having relevance to his principles) of it, and try to like himself a little more, so that he doesn't depend on an entire army of admirers to do his liking for him. Which gets us down to the nub of it: Libra's tendency to esteem himself too little and others too much. The Coy Maiden is the inevitable result of somebody who's just too insecure to believe one lover, one friend, is enough to convince him he's lovable.
The other reason for this curious game is Libra's tendency to identify with and sympathize so much with the opposite sex. Many Librans, as a result, question their own sexuality. Like Gemini, another sign which is concerned with opposites, Libra often feels dissociated from its own sex. This can be especially so because Libra is a refined sign, and the cruder aspects of both masculinity and femininity can be offensive. But to dissociate from one's own sex means paying a price; and the price is a vague feeling of sexual insecurity. Besides, being as mind-oriented as they are, Librans aren't always comfortable with their bodies, and often feel unattractive or ugly because some little thing isn't exactly right. So everyone else becomes a mirror, to convince Libra that he's the fairest one of all.
Even Alexander had that problem. So, too, old Napoleon, a Leo with Libra on the ascendant. So have many other famous Librans both in the arts and in the world of politics - the two spheres where you most find them.
The Libran shadow isn't after all, Bad, False and Ugly. But it can be a little too Good, too True and too Beautiful for its own good. Anybody playing the role finds very quickly, too, that you have to keep moving from admirer to admirer, because if you stay too long with one, the mirror might suddenly wake up one morning really sick of saying, 'You're the fairest of them all,' and say something distressing like, 'What are you really like?' Then the game's up, and Libra has to confront a real relationship. Which is, after all, what his journey's truly about.