The Question Only Real Fans Ask
People who know Prince casually see that he became one of Jehovah’s Witnesses. They assume he submitted to the religion — that he traded his purple velvet for a suit and tie, traded “Darling Nikki” for door-to-door ministry.
But fans who really follow him know something does not add up. Prince named his 2012 power trio 3RDEYEGIRL. He wore customized three-lens sunglasses. He explored concepts explicitly forbidden by strict JW doctrine, which aggressively forbids anything associated with Eastern mysticism, the occult, or the “third eye.” So what is actually going on?
Let us use Human Design to explain. Prince did not submit to organized religion. He used it as a container for his spirituality — not as the definition of it. And deeper still, he used it as a way to feel normal. To escape the crushing identity of being Prince. His Human Design chart maps exactly why.
The Cross of Separation: Selective Engagement
Prince’s Incarnation Cross was the Left Angle Cross of Separation (35/5, 22/47). This cross dictates that a person cannot simply merge into a collective identity. They must separate and establish their own territory.
When Prince converted to Jehovah’s Witnesses, he did not blend into the congregation. He brought his own music to Kingdom Hall. He brought rock-and-bassist Larry Graham door-knocking with him. He pulled the boundaries, rules, and clean-living concepts of the JW faith that kept him grounded, but he completely separated himself from the strict mind-control aspect.
If he wanted to explore third-eye concepts or name a band after them, he did it — because his cross demanded that he operate on his own terms. Separation does not mean isolation. It means selective engagement. Prince took what served him and left what did not. The Cross of Separation does not resolve contradictions. It houses them.
The 6/2 Profile: The Observer on the Roof
Prince had a 6/2 profile — the role model hermit. This meant he spent his entire life looking for objective truth. Sixth-line people do not adopt beliefs just because they are told to. They test them. And crucially, they observe themselves from a detached perspective — what Human Design calls “being on the roof.”
While Prince fiercely defended the JW faith in interviews and cleaned up his lyrical content, he viewed the religion from an elevated, objective standpoint. A 6/2 person can fully believe something while simultaneously watching themselves believe it. That detachment is not hypocrisy. It is the sixth line’s superpower.
He treated the Bible as a text to study, not a chain to bind his creative expression. To a sixth-line person, a religious container is useful for personal discipline, but their allegiance is always to the ultimate truth they see from “the roof” — not to the local human elders. Prince was never a follower. He was a role model demonstrating how to use religion without being used by it.
Defined Head and Defined Ajna: The Engine of Certainty
Prince had both his Head center and his Ajna center defined. A defined Head means he had a consistent, reliable source of mental pressure and inspiration. A defined Ajna means he had a fixed, consistent way of processing information and forming opinions.
Together, these two defined mental centers mean Prince was not mentally flexible or impressionable. When he believed something, he believed it fully and consistently. His mind was a source of certainty. He likely fully agreed with JW teachings intellectually — because his defined Ajna does not do half-belief.
This is important. Prince was not casually dipping into JW doctrine. His defined mind locked onto it completely. He studied it. He mastered it. He defended it. The certainty was real.
But certainty about a belief is not the same as being owned by it. And that is where the rest of his chart comes in.
Open G Center: No Fixed Identity
Prince had an open G Center. This is the most revealing detail in his entire chart.
The G Center rules identity, direction, and love. An open G Center means Prince did not have a fixed, consistent sense of who he was. Instead, he was designed to sample identity from his environment — to try on different roles, directions, and ways of being — and to become wise about identity by experiencing its many forms.
This changes everything about how we understand his relationship to the Jehovah’s Witnesses.
An open G Center is deeply receptive to the identity and direction of others. When Prince entered the JW community, he would have genuinely experienced their collective identity as his own. He would have felt at home. Found a clear direction. Experienced love within that structure. This is not weakness or inauthenticity. It is how an open G works: it amplifies and reflects the identity environment it is in.
But an open G also means that identity does not stick permanently. When he left the Kingdom Hall, the amplification faded. His core remained flexible, curious, and ultimately unowned by any single identity. That is why he could be a devout Witness in one moment and name his band 3RDEYEGIRL in the next. He was not being fake. He was being an open G: reflecting his environment while never being permanently captured by it.
The Combination: Engine Without a Steering Wheel
Now we see the full mechanical picture.
Prince had a defined Head and Ajna — a powerful mental engine that produces certainty, concepts, and fixed beliefs.
He had an open G Center — no permanent steering wheel. No fixed identity to aim that mental engine at.
This combination is rare and intense. Imagine a Formula One engine mounted on a chassis with no permanent direction. The engine produces tremendous power. But where does it go? What does it attach to?
Without a container, a defined mind with an open G can spin. The mind produces certainties, but the open G cannot ground them in a stable identity. The certainties float. They change with environment. The person can feel absolutely sure of something today and completely different tomorrow — not because they are unreliable, but because their mind is fixed and their identity is fluid.
The container solves this.
JW as Container: Giving the Engine a Road
The Jehovah’s Witnesses gave Prince a fixed spiritual framework that his defined mind could lock onto and his open G could inhabit. Inside that container:
- His defined Ajna had a subject to study, master, and defend with complete mental certainty.
- His open G had a stable identity to wear — something his fluid sense of self rarely experienced.
- His daily life gained rhythm and boundaries through moral structure.
- His open G found a community that amplified the container’s strength.
The container was not a prison. A container has walls, but it also has an inside and an outside. You can enter it and leave it. You can put things into it and take things out.
Prince used the JW faith as a container for his spirituality — not as the definition of it. The container held the shape. It did not become the substance.
The Hidden Need: To Feel Normal
There is another layer here, and it may be the most important one.
Prince’s open G Center had spent most of his life amplifying the identity of “rock star.” The purple one. The symbol. The genius. The sex symbol. The icon. That identity was extreme. It was isolating. It was exhausting. It was anything but normal.
For a man who could not go to the grocery store without being mobbed, the pressure of that identity was crushing. The open G does not prefer any identity over another — it simply reflects what is present. But being Prince-level famous is an intense identity to reflect. At some point, his open G needed a different identity to sample. Not because he stopped being a rock star, but because open G centers need variety. They need to try on different selves. It is how they become wise.
The Jehovah’s Witnesses gave Prince access to an identity that was the opposite of rock star: ordinary believer. Congregation member. Door-knocker. Someone who shows up to meetings, sits in a metal folding chair, and listens to an elder give a talk.
Inside the Kingdom Hall, he was not Prince. He was just another brother in the congregation. People might have known who he was, but the container demanded a different behavior. He was expected to be humble, quiet, teachable, and ordinary.
His open G Center would have soaked this up like water in dry ground. Finally, an identity container where the goal was to blend in, not stand out. Where the pressure was to submit, not to perform. Where normal was the highest value.
For two hours at a meeting, he was not a rock star. He was just a man reading a Bible. No one asked for an autograph. No one expected a performance. His open G could finally rest.
Emotional Authority: Timing Over Thinking
Prince had Emotional Authority, meaning his Solar Plexus center was defined and his primary decision-making motor. A defined Solar Plexus generates a reliable, wave-based emotional rhythm — predictable highs, lows, and neutral zones over time.
The Jehovah’s Witness conversion process requires prolonged study and prayerful consideration before baptism. New members must attend meetings for months or years and wait for confirmation of their understanding. This process structurally matches how Emotional Authority works: wait through the full wave, do not decide in a moment of excitement, and make the final choice from a neutral, clear place.
Prince’s decisions were never made by his defined mind alone. His Solar Plexus had the final say over time. This means he could intellectually agree with JW doctrine while his emotional wave determined when and how he lived it out. His emotional authority could override his own mental certainty if the wave demanded it.
Why the Third Eye Never Closed
With an open G Center, Prince was always going to be searching for identity, direction, and love. The Jehovah’s Witnesses gave him a powerful, coherent identity container. For a period of his life, that container was genuinely useful. It gave his open G somewhere to land. It gave him the experience of normalcy.
But an open G never permanently lands. That is the design. He was supposed to sample, reflect, learn, and eventually become wise about identity without being attached to any single one.
The third-eye sunglasses. The band name 3RDEYEGIRL. The exploration of forbidden concepts. All of these were his open G doing what it is designed to do: move, explore, and refuse to be locked into a single definition of self.
The container held his JW beliefs and gave him normalcy. But his open G was always going to look outside the container as well. That is its job: to sample multiple identities over a lifetime and become wise about love, direction, and selfhood by experiencing many versions of it.
He Never Fully Left but Never Fully Stayed
Toward the end of his life, Prince was found with mainstream Christian Bibles that contradicted JW translations. He named a band 3RDEYEGIRL. He explored concepts the JWs explicitly forbade.
His open G was doing what it does: sampling something new. Moving on. Not because the JW identity was false, but because it had served its purpose. It gave him years of normalcy. Years of being just a brother in the congregation. Years of his defined mind having a clear framework to master.
But the open G always moves. It is not disloyal. It is designed that way.
The JW container was never meant to be his final identity. It was meant to be a rest stop. A place where his open G could feel what it felt like to be normal. To be ordinary. To belong without performing.
What This Means for Understanding Prince
Prince did not convert to Jehovah’s Witnesses because he found theological truth. He converted because his open G Center needed to know what it felt like to be normal.
The rock star identity was crushing. The purple one could not escape purple. The Kingdom Hall was one of the only places on earth where he could take off the purple suit and just be a person.
His defined mind dressed that experience in doctrine. His Cross of Separation let him customize it. His 6/2 profile let him observe it. But underneath all of that, the open G was simply saying: “Let me try on ordinary. Just for a while.”
And it worked. For years, it worked.
When it stopped working, his open G moved on. Not because the JWs failed, but because containers are not cages. You step into them. You step out of them. You take what you needed and you thank the container on your way out.
The Final Image
Imagine Prince walking into Kingdom Hall. He takes off the purple suit. He takes off the three-lens sunglasses. He sits in a metal folding chair. Someone calls him “brother.” No one asks for an autograph. No one expects a performance. For two hours, he is not a rock star. He is just a man reading a Bible.
His defined mind is fully engaged, mastering the text. His open G is fully at rest, finally not having to perform identity. His emotional wave is calm. His Cross of Separation is quiet because for once, he has chosen to merge.
Then he walks out. He puts the sunglasses back on. He becomes Prince again. But something changed inside him. His open G learned something about normalcy. His defined mind learned something about humility. He carries that with him into the studio.
The container gave him something fame never could: the experience of being ordinary.
Conclusion
People who know Prince casually see a man who joined a strict religion and assume he surrendered. Fans who really follow him know better. His Human Design chart explains exactly why: the Cross of Separation says customize, the 6/2 profile says observe from the roof, the defined Head and Ajna provide mental certainty, the open G Center says identity is something you sample not something you are, and the Emotional Authority says wait for clarity before acting.
But underneath all of that, there is a simpler truth. Prince became a Jehovah’s Witness because he needed to feel normal. He needed to sit in a room where no one wanted anything from him. He needed to be just another brother.
He used the JW faith as a container for his spirituality — and as a refuge from his own fame. The container held the shape. It did not become the substance. And Prince, with his open G and his defined mind and his Cross of Separation, was always the one who decided what went into the container and what stayed outside.
The third eye was never closed. It was just wearing three-lens sunglasses. And behind those sunglasses, for a few hours each week, a man who could never be ordinary finally got to sit down and be nobody at all.
That is not a contradiction. That is a master using a tool perfectly.
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