I do this thing — call it a habit — where I apply .02 seconds of thought to a decision and then I move forward with blind confidence. This has applied to the following choices: getting a tattoo, moving across the country, piercing my belly button (not advisable), quitting my job, shaving my upper lip (also not advisable), breaking up with someone, getting back together with the same person, and carrying an AC unit that said “do not lift alone” alone.
I used to think this was being “irrational” or “irresponsible” or, in the case of my now-closed belly button piercing, “embarrassing.” But astrology has taught me: This is just being an Aries.
For a long time, astrology was the perfect excuse for all my misdoings. If I did something shitty, it was written in the stars! If I hurt someone, they were probably just a water sign. But in reality, my behavior had nothing to do with the cosmos. I just needed a therapist.
I guess it’s just easier to believe that our faults are not our own, but some predestined writing in the stars.
In college, I broke up with my boyfriend at the time every few months. It was a test, you see; I needed to double-check just how bad he wanted to be with me. Bless his heart, he usually passed. Until one time he didn’t.
During what I didn’t know would be our final breakup, we sat in his car crying for an hour until I finally got out. “I’ll see you soon,” I said as I closed his car door, unaware that this time my actions had consequences. As I walked toward my house, I stopped in my tracks when I realized I had left my glasses in his car. Dramatically, I ran back toward him. I swear if there was music that could have faded in, it would have.
He swung open his door hopefully and looked at me. He thought I had changed my mind.
“I forgot my glasses,” I said matter-of-factly.
His face fell.
I think that was the moment where it ended for good.
A week later, I would call him sobbing and begging to get back together. But he was done. My irrational “Aries” nature had won this time, and because of it, I had lost him.
Rather than look into myself and what I had done wrong, I launched into a series of other bad decisions. I paired these questionable choices with my star sign, and I wore both as a point of pride. I couldn’t help it; this was my nature.
I guess it’s just easier to believe that our faults are not our own, but some predestined writing in the stars.
A few years ago, I briefly dated someone who would consistently show up 30+ minutes late to our dates. Once, he was so late that I called and caught up with both of my grandmothers, FaceTimed a college best friend, got my email inbox to zero, and canceled a credit card all from the restaurant parking lot.
When I complained to a friend about my date’s perpetual tardiness, she asked:
“Well, what’s his sign?”
“Gemini,” I said.
She sighed.
“Well, there ya go.”
And that was settled.
I couldn’t change his behavior, nor should I ask him to, because he was a Gemini. He marched to the beat of his own drum. And that drum was late.
Traditional religion makes less and less sense to us. But holy shit do we love to have our birth charts read.
And this is where I see an issue with astrology, and specifically, how we (namely, millennials) are applying it to our lives today. We’re giving ourselves (and each other) star-crossed excuses for our bad behavior. And it’s becoming massively popular to do so.
While astrology has been around for thousands of years, it’s undoubtedly having a massive cultural renaissance. Meme accounts garner millions of followers and thousands of shares on Instagram, horoscopes are no longer in the back pages of magazines but now weekly features on editorial sites, and “what’s your sign?” is no longer just a joke, but an unironic question on a first date.
Has astrology replaced religion as the new way we make sense of the world? According to Pew Research Center, one in four millennials identify as atheist or agnostic and they attend far fewer worship services and religious events than older generations.
Traditional religion makes less and less sense to us. But holy shit do we love to have our birth charts read.
Because even if astrology isn’t exactly a scientific practice for most of the folks who search for meaning in it, it acts as Myers-Briggs, HEXCO, and every personality test packaged into the form of a Rihanna meme.
This means that aside from just finding meaning in the stars, we’re also finding justifications for our behavior.
And that’s where the water gets murky. There’s nothing wrong with discovering a sense of belonging in astrology, in fact, I think finding purpose in nontoxic environments can be healthy. But I do think it when astrology is used to explain, excuse, or promote our bad behavior — that’s an issue.
For myself included.
I wasn’t a bad partner when I was younger because I’m an Aries, or because I have a “fiery” nature. I was a bad partner because I didn’t know the value of being a good one, and the consequences of being a bad one. I didn’t know how much better relationships could get when you’re not just fighting to win, but searching to find common ground. And unfortunately, I had to learn all of that through a lot of heartbreak, and a lot of therapy.
We shouldn’t be arguing with our partners because we’re fire signs, or judging them because we’re earth signs. We shouldn’t have unhealthy coping mechanisms because we’re water signs, or flake on people because we’re an air sign. Astrology cannot define the best and worst parts of ourselves; we should be defining those ourselves.
There’s a difference between finding meaning in chaos, and being an agent of it.
And I think my therapist (who’s an earth sign) would agree.
