Where My Virgos At? Why I Judge Men By Their Zodiac Sign

August 7, 2013  |  

There are lots of things we judge a potential partner on. Today, I want to speak about one of the most irrational ones: zodiac signs.

I’m particularly guilty of this peculiar and probably most irrational forms of dating discrimination. My sun sign is Virgo, which means I am ruled by the planet Mercury. My moon sign is Leo, and I have an ascending sign of Leo and a descending sign of Aries. The last two are purely guesstimates because for some reason, my mother can’t remember the exact time she brought her oldest child and oldest daughter into the world. Yet even with the half-knowledge of who I am astrologically, I still hold the men I have dated – and planned to date – to the fullest expectation of their zodiac sign.

In fact, What’s your zodiac sign is pretty far up there on the list of first date questions. At least for me. “Oh, you’re a Cancer?” This could work but I’m making a mental note to expect lots of moodiness. “Your birthday lands squarely in the house of Aries, you say?” Nope, sorry, your foolhardiness and impulsiveness will be in total conflict with the perfectionist in me. Even if you don’t know your sign, I’ve got you covered. I’ll just pull out my trusty Android and ask Google to explain to us both what house you belong to, all your good and bad personality traits, and whether or not this first date has been written for success by the stars.

Yeah, sure, you say that who we are is largely determined by how we’re nurtured and socialized as children. Well I say that those who don’t believe in the power of the astrology sign should be viewed suspiciously. Call it confirmation bias, but every relationship I had with a Libra ended disastrously. Virgo is an Earth Sign and Libra is an Air Sign. Virgos are said to be a mutable sign while Libras are all about that cardinal life. As a Virgo woman, I am modest, meticulous and analytical. I enjoy domesticated activities and posses all the wonderful traits of a good mother and a supportive wife. And as a Libra man, a past boyfriend was a cheater, liar, and horrible at knowing if he wanted a relationship or not. Actually, the personality traits associated with Mr. Libra dictated that he is self-indulgent, flirtatious and indecisive, which are pretty vague. But that’s close enough, and since then, I have been leery of all Libra men.

I don’t know for sure when I started looking to the planets for life coaching, including romantic assistance. Truthfully, I have always had a deep and almost sacred appreciation of astrology – and to a larger extent, astronomy. There is nothing more glorious and mystifying than those little dots we see above us. It reminds me that the universe is vast and that we earthlings, while connected, only play an insignificant part in it. And yet, our distant relationship with the celestial bodies are a huge part of the myths and beliefs of the gods, which make up the many ancient and modern day religions. The sun, the center of our solar system, has been given a father-like persona and the responsibility as the keeper and giver of life. We attribute not only the rising and succeeding tide with the Moon, but we hold it responsible for our mood swings too. And then there are the many other planets and star constellations, which we deified and attributed great human-like personalities and immortal powers to. In many respects, our need to anthropomorphize planets and star clusters is just another way in which we connect and understand things that still remain far from understandable.

And yet, there is no proof that the personalities we ascribe to the stars and the planets actually mean anything in reality. Heck, after hundreds of years of time and calender manipulation, there is really no way to know for sure if the sign we have now, is really the sign we were born under. And then there is the question of which of the 80 different branches, including Natal horoscope, Election, Western or Chinese astrologies, is the rightful keeper of such sacred esoteric knowledge? I would hate to be in the same room when your Year of the Goat gets cornered by your Leo the Lion.

The odds are that Mr. Libra was a butthole because that’s what he chose to honor in his life. And I probably didn’t need a crystal ball to tell me that – just a keen ability to actually pay attention. But still, even with my adherence to logic and actual science, I still find myself slyly asking my date over a couple of cocktails, “So when’s your birthday?” And then mentally drawing up our charts to predict future events, including whether this date should end by the time dessert comes to the table.

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