Leo energy is all big hair, bold moves and “look at me, I’m fabulous.” But when Mercury goes retrograde in this fire sign, it’s less about centre stage and more about backstage rewrites. The light’s still on, the mic’s still live, but suddenly you’re giving a monologue... to yourself.
This retrograde isn’t here to ruin your tech or mess with your calendar, although yes, you should back up your files and double-check your travel times. What it is here for is authenticity. It wants to know if your voice matches your values. If your posts match your power. If the version of you that the world sees is actually you, or just something you thought looked good in 2022.
This is not “speak louder.” It’s “do you believe what you’re saying?”
Mercury retrograde in Leo asks: is your confidence real or rehearsed? Are you speaking from your centre or from your Instagram bio? It’s time to pause the performance and check in with the writer. The one scribbling notes behind the scenes. The one who’s still carrying that awkward teen version of you who just wanted to be liked.
Here's how this energy might manifest:
You might have second thoughts about how you’ve been presenting yourself
One day you’re posting confident selfies and using words like “empowered” in your bio. The next, you’re thinking, “Wait… do I even talk like that?” Mercury retrograde in Leo pulls the curtain back. You might suddenly realise that the persona you’ve been putting forward, whether online, at work or even in friendships, doesn’t quite fit anymore. It’s not wrong. It’s just outdated. Like a sparkly dress that used to be your go-to but now feels itchy and a bit much. That’s not failure. That’s growth.
You might feel like your voice doesn’t quite fit anymore
There’s a weird in-between feeling that can happen here. You try to write a caption, pitch an idea or say how you feel... and it just lands flat. Not because you’re blocked, but because your voice is evolving. You’re learning to speak from a truer place. One that isn’t performing. One that isn’t trying to be palatable or polished. It’s clunky at first. That’s okay. Keep going. Think of it like vocal warm-ups. You’re reconnecting to the real tone underneath the edits.
You might suddenly want to rework your socials, website, pitch or dating profile
Out of nowhere, you’ll look at your LinkedIn, your Hinge bio or even your email signature and think, “This is not it.” Cue the urgent need to delete, rewrite, redo and start fresh. Don’t fight it. This is prime Mercury retrograde material. Use the energy to reflect. What’s the story you’re telling about yourself? Is it honest? Is it inspiring? Does it feel like a real person or a glossy placeholder version of you from six months ago? Rewrite until it does.
You might hit a creative block… that’s actually a creative redirection
You sit down to work on something and… nothing. Total blank. It’s not because you’re untalented. It’s because something’s shifting. You’re being nudged toward a different angle, a better approach, a new idea that aligns more closely with where you’re heading—not where you’ve been. Don’t force it. Instead of pushing through, zoom out. What would feel fun to create? What would feel like play, not pressure? That’s the direction to follow.
You might have a heart-healing moment that rewires how you seek approval
Maybe someone compliments the real you and it hits different. Maybe you notice how often you edit yourself to keep the peace or win praise. Maybe you realise you’ve been chasing gold stars when all you really needed was to hear your own voice say “I’m proud of you.” These moments can be subtle. A memory. A message. A cry in the bath followed by a deep exhale. But they’re powerful. They shift your desire from performing for applause to showing up for your own truth.
Here's are some ways to work with this energy:
Write a love letter to your past self, then one to your future self
Light a candle, grab your journal and go full softie. Write to your younger self,yes, even the cringey one who wore too much eyeliner or believed that toxic ex was ‘the one’. Thank them for getting you here. Then write to your future self. Tell her what you’re proud of her for already. What you hope she’s learned. What kind of power she carries with grace. When you read both, ask: what needs to shift between these two versions? That’s your next move.
Edit your “About Me” until it actually sounds like you
Whether it’s your Instagram bio, website, CV or that little blurb on your dating profile, give it a proper glow-up. But not the polished, over-rehearsed version. Ask: would I talk like this at brunch? Does this sound like something I’d say out loud on a Tuesday? If not, strip it back. Keep the essence, lose the performance. Replace “passionate about human connection” with “can’t stop talking to strangers at the pub.” You get the idea.
Ask yourself: what part of me am I still performing?
Be gentle here. This isn’t a call-out. It’s a curiosity. Notice where you change your voice, your clothes, your captions to match what you think people want. Who are you trying to impress? What’s the cost? You don’t have to stop cold turkey. But you can start noticing. Awareness is the first step to freedom.
Revisit something you abandoned creatively. Not to finish it, but to listen
Open that half-finished novel, that Google Doc titled “idea maybe lol” or that voice note from last spring. Don’t judge. Don’t try to make it good. Just ask, “Why did I start this? What did I need to express?” There might be a message in there from a past version of you who still has something to say. And it might be more relevant now than ever.
Reconnect with play, not performance
Leo is the inner child, the dancing-without-filming-it, the finger-painting, karaoke-singing, bad-poetry-writing energy that reminds you creativity is meant to be fun. So go dance in your kitchen. Make something badly on purpose. Write a short story where nothing makes sense. Let yourself laugh. Let yourself mess it up. Stop trying to impress. Start trying to enjoy yourself.
Use voice notes to speak your truth, even if no one else hears it
Open your phone, hit record, and just talk. About what you want. About who you’re becoming. About how you’re tired of shrinking or shouting or sounding like someone else. There’s something powerful about hearing your own voice say what you’ve been thinking. You don’t have to publish it. But do let it echo back. Sometimes clarity comes through sound, not thought.
Feeling a vibe shift? The astrology might explain it! Click HERE to read more.