Bad Birthdays: The Truth Behind Your Crappy Sun Sign

My personal relationship with horoscopes and astrology has gone through many stages. As a teenager and college student, I found the study fascinating and oh-so-relevant. I loved learning which tendencies the different signs had, and how the movement of the planets impacted on people’s moods and behavior. I studied compatibility reports tirelessly and considered how I would map out my sexual and romantic pursuits.

I had, however, one major problem with astrology. I hated my sign. I was born a freaking Virgo—arguably the most boring, unsexy, lame sign in the entire zodiac.

“But I’m not boring,” I argued to myself. “I’m a fascinating, creative, unique person.” So I did some more research. I looked at my Moon sign and my rising planets, and by analyzing the exact time and place of my birth I was able to build up some more detail. My new, more complex horoscope still basically said I was just incredibly boring… except it didn’t come right out and say that. My chart used euphemisms such as, “reliable,” and “dependable,” and “doesn’t like change,” and “total control freak.” Whatever! I could go with the flow like nobody’s business. Couldn’t I?

I took a break from astrology for a while. I spent the latter part of my twenties never even using, “What’s your sign?” as a pick-up line, let alone as a genuine conversation topic. I carried on with my life, moved to New York City, went to graduate school, had relationships—lots of relationships. The one metaphysical allowance I made to myself was to attend the annual Psychic Fair in Denver, Colorado, near my parents’ home. Now let’s fast-forward to a Fair I went to a few years ago, just before my wedding. So… I’m sitting in the large, open hall with one of the hundreds of psychics and spiritual guides in attendance. Her booth is a card table covered with a lovely, ornate patchwork cloth and a sign on a tripod. A little stack of business cards offering a ten per cent discount sits on the corner of the table. I begin describing my upcoming nuptials, and feel my blood pressure rising. In fact, I feel myself beginning to freak out, and before I know it, I’m walking with the ghosts of boyfriends past, digging through all the past relationships that hurt me.

I blow my nose. (Yes, that’s right, I was crying for some reason at this point… I always get emotional at the Psychic Fair—I think that’s a “me” thing, not a Virgo thing.) I go on to explain how my first love, my high school boyfriend, had cheated on me and left me and I was scared that my husband-to-be would do so as well. The psychic crinkles her wise eyes and says, “Oh dear. What sign was he?” I told her that the ex was a Pisces, and that my fiancé is a Leo. She frowned. “Oh dear. Well, you may have issues with the Leo in other areas, but he won’t cheat. They’re very loyal… But of course the Pisces cheated on you. He felt like you didn’t and couldn’t really love him. And you probably really went outside your comfort zone with him, too, to try to make sure he didn’t cheat on you.” I blink a few times. She’d nailed it. She hands me a tissue and I blow my nose—loudly. She holds up the trashcan and I toss in the wad. She clicks her tongue, “I could have told you that a Virgo-Pisces match would end in infidelity and saved you that pain.”

I remember it vividly. At that moment, I wanted to stand up and scream. Why didn’t anyone tell me, then, if it’s such common frikkin’ knowledge? Why wasn’t there a book that told people the truth about their signs and their compatibility? After leaving the Psychic Fair I went back home and launched an investigation, just to make sure that I hadn’t overlooked something that stated the outright truth about my compatibility (or lack of it) with my ex, and really could have saved me the trouble of wasting time with him. Everywhere I looked I saw that a Virgo-Pisces match was mostly healthy, though everything was so vague! There were broad, sweeping statements like, “Pisces’s unreliability may disturb Virgo.” Um, yes! For some reason it disturbed me greatly when he was unreliable… and slept with other people.

I read and thought more. I brought out old resources that I used to read and checked into other aspects of my zodiac chart. I looked at family relationships, career choices, money. I looked at how I would be as a parent, how I would relate to my friends. And everything I read was double-talk. “Virgos born on this day care more about their passion for their job than their money.” That basically means that I shouldn’t expect to get rich. “Virgos born on this day may find that they have different opinions on child-rearing than those of their friends.” This one basically means that I would grow up to be a judgmental mommy, right? Well, when the normal wishy-washy zodiac descriptions are boiled down to their essentials, all that’s remaining is what stinks… what chip you were born with on your shoulder… which cross you were born to bear. Knowing the good stuff is the icing on your cake; knowing the bad stuff can save both your life and your relationships.