This essay was originally published by JancisRobinson.com as one of 82 selected entries from 419 submissions to the 2026 Wine Writing Competition.

Uranus, planet of rebellion and plot twists, just left Taurus. Since 2018, it’s been doling out lessons in self-worth with the grace of a wet sea lion traipsing through a tulip field. I toasted the end of this hostage situation with the wine I used to grapple with its early challenges, Chono Carménère. It’s the wine that I was sipping on from a Welch’s Grape Juice bottle that I had smuggled into the homeless shelter where I was staying while pondering the question that would change the trajectory of my life. Did I believe I was worthy of a life beyond struggle?

Rock bottom offers the best opportunity to cultivate self-worth. It forces you to fill the blank canvas of having nothing material to offer the world with a definitive answer. We were just six months into the Uranus in Taurus transit when I received a message on LinkedIn from someone who had reviewed my profile and found it impressive. He wanted me to come in for an interview for a wine sales position. For most people, the offer to transition from a retail position that obviously wasn’t paying the rent to a salaried position is a no-brainer. Still, it’s easy to romanticize the struggle when it’s kept you company for a lifetime.

I received an offer after my interview and said I would have to think about it, as I was still under the illusion that permanent discomfort was a valid lifestyle choice. It was while sitting with my clandestine bottle in a sweltering room with a broken fan that I shared with nine other girls that I concluded that I would have to risk the devastation of failure and take a leap of faith.

Uranus in Taurus rewarded me for my courage by gifting me with something very Taurean: a new home in Jersey City to accompany my new job. I would spend most of the next decade gaining and losing friends, money, opportunities, and most importantly, my impulse to sacrifice my sense of self to meet my changing circumstances. Each experience challenged me to define and honor my values when my material resources were depleted.

My grape guide, Carménère, was the perfect pairing for these curveballs, especially at under $15 a bottle, and I would consult it often over the years. Just a couple of centuries earlier, the commencement of its own Uranus in Taurus journey would initiate a long overseas adventure from its original home in Bordeaux to Chile. This would mark its rise from obscurity and rebrand it as Chile’s signature grape. For this reason, it served as a compass when the temptation to fracture myself to become palpable to others became overwhelming.

Carménère was originally prized as one of the six noble grapes in France, the way JC Chasez was a valuable member of N’Sync. It added deep color, spice, and complexity to the blend but remained a backup grape in the ensemble because it was difficult to grow in Bordeaux’s moderate maritime climate. When the phylloxera outbreak arrived in the 1860s, Carménère was deemed a liability and kicked out of the band.

Luckily, just ten years before that, in the 1850s, as Uranus was entering Taurus, Carménère was replanted in Chile in a case of mistaken identity that would save its life. In warm and dry conditions of its new home, the grape thrived. Here, it ripened fully, displaying black cherry and plum flavors that complemented its signature peppery and herbal characteristics. Chilean winemakers knew there was something different about this wine, but they didn’t know what, so they simply named it Chilean Merlot, further prolonging Carménère’s identity crisis. Somehow, despite no longer being part of a blend, it was still having a hard time being seen.

In 1994, everything changed. The grape that had been left for dead in Bordeaux during the phylloxera outbreak would be rediscovered. Jean-Michel Boursiquot, a French ampelographer, “noticed a twisted stamen on some vines of this variety” while walking through the vineyards of Viña Carmen. By 1998, just before the start of the 21st century, Carménère would be recognized as the distinct varietal it is, becoming Chile’s signature grape. By being steadfast in its identity, the grape that was too difficult because it would not adapt to every environment secured its place in the world and became undeniable.

By the end of my own journey through this transit, I, too, would emerge with a steadfast sense of identity. It helped me understand that our value does not hinge on others’ ability to see us. Rather, it is when we stop conforming like a liquid to a container to appease the world that we finally have something of value to offer the world.

Uranus in Taurus has finally wrapped up its 21st-century transit, and it won’t return for 84 years. But it leaves behind a transformed version of me. I am ready to enter the Uranus in Gemini transit with a refined sense of identity and self-worth, with the lessons I learned through guidance from a grape.

Wine: Chono Single Vineyard Carménère
Region: Colchagua Valley, Chile
Transit: Uranus in Taurus, 2018–2026
Historical pattern: Displacement, misidentification, rediscovery, and self-definition
Central question: What happens when your value no longer depends on being recognized by the wrong environment?
First published: JancisRobinson.com, August 18, 2026

After years of serving beers and shots in dive bars, life took an unexpected turn. I was tasked with developing the menu at a wine bar in Harlem. I discovered myself through this detour and went on to have a career as a wine and spirits account manager, selling wine through story. In 2024, this yielded a life-changing experience as a Wine Writers’ Symposium Fellow.

Wine continues to surprise me in the most delightful ways. I created Celestial Somm, which pairs wine with astrology to share this experience of feeling seen through a wine with others.