it's time to talk about astrology

finding yourself among the stars

May 02, 2024

“What time were you born?” I don’t consider myself an expert on (or even a genuine subscriber to) astrology, but I know exactly where that question leads. I have selective hearing for it in social settings, and I will pose the question myself if I sense a receptive crowd. If I’m not the one asking, I find myself turning toward the asker. Usually this person knows something about astrology, and I selfishly insert myself into their conversations to learn more from them about what my Big Three say about me.

*vermont, september 2020. anyone know if there are any constellations in here?*

In my early twenties, I had a therapist who also happened to be an astrologer. At times, she incorporated my natal chart into our sessions, and I was not amused. I was young, I was the most depressed I’d ever been, and I didn’t believe any of it could be helpful. I thought people used their sign’s ascribed disposition to excuse any poor behaviors in which they may have partaken. I sat through our sessions learning about which planet was in which houses at what time, but I didn’t retain any of it. She made a compelling case for my future and who I would become based off of my chart, but I didn’t see myself becoming anyone at the time, so I let it fly right over my head while I searched for a new therapist.

In hindsight, I wish I had been more engaged in her astrological assessment. I think I was depressed during this period, in part, because I felt no sense of identity. I had been a Student (capital S to emphasize how much I relied on my academic success to supply my self-esteem/personality) my entire life, and, though I had been writing since I learned how to write, I didn’t feel I could call myself a writer because that felt self-indulgent. I grew up in an atheist household, so I had no spiritual identity. I also didn’t have a career yet, and I knew I wouldn’t until I eventually enrolled in and finished grad school. I didn’t feel like a writer, I wasn’t a student, and I was living in a shadow of a self I did not yet know.

Around that time, I started working at a coffee shop and fell in with several creatives—musicians, visual artists, writers, etc. I moved in with another writer (hi Sar), and this was around the time I started to notice astrology popping up everywhere. I found my peers discussing astrology not in an anecdotal or prescriptive way, but in a way that helped them reconcile their identity. I remember one day in 2017, posted up in the Phoenix on Coventry, my roommate and I did our natal charts on Café Astrology. Not long after, I was downloading the Co-Star app on my phone. My interest was piqued.

Here is a smattering of what I’ve learned about astrology (personally and generally) in the last seven years:

I was born at 2:22 a.m. on August 22, 1994 which makes me a Leo Sun, Pisces Moon, Cancer Rising. I believe this means my “true” self, or my ego, is a Leo, my emotional or subconscious self is a Pisces, and my social self, or the self I present to the world, is a Cancer.
my best friend chose these three photos to represent my big three, from left to right: leo sun, cancer rising, pisces moon
My Leo Sun traits are a bit difficult for me to relate to. I’m protective and I love nice things, but I’m not confident, and I don’t feel like I am a strong leader. I attribute this to the fact that I also born 20 hours short of being a Virgo. I tend to relate to a Virgo horoscope pretty frequently, but I know some die-hard astrology lovers don’t believe in cusps.
My Cancer Rising means I place a lot of value in my home setting, I’m the “mom” friend (yes, I do have a pouch full of Tylenol, tampons, earrings, hair ties, nail polish remover, snacks, gum, etc. on me at all times), I have a strong tie to my mom, and I’m intuitive. I have a handful of really close friends, and I give everything I can to them. I make impulsive decisions, and I can be moody. Almost everything I’ve read about Cancer Rising has rung true for me.
My Pisces Moon allegedly means I’m creative, empathetic, nurturing, and romantic. Pisces Moons often carry the emotions of others as their own and they daydream a ton. People trust them with their emotions. I will say, I do find myself hearing a total stranger’s life story in line at the grocery store at least quarterly.
Most of my friends are Taurus, Leo, or Sagittarius. My closest people are fire or earth signs (except my husband, who is a Scorpio with a Sag Rising, Libra Moon). I don’t know if that says anything about me or if that makes some sort of cosmic sense.
I saw a TikTok recently that said the person whose sun sign is your rising sign is someone who can teach you about yourself. I’m a Cancer Rising, so, if this is true, I learn a lot about myself from Cancer Suns.
Astrology is a conversation starter that allows you to forgo surface-level interactions and career-oriented discussions (which I loathe).
It’s fun to make up little scenarios and lists that correspond to the signs:
my coworkers and I made this in the middle of summer 2019 at the coffee shop where I used to work
Even if you don’t believe in astrology, you can use it as a tool for self-reflection. Maybe you find you heavily relate to the descriptions for your Big Three, and a new part of yourself is revealed, but maybe, too, you don’t relate to those descriptions. Maybe you can definitively say “I am not this” and you can still walk away having learned something about yourself. In visual art, negative space is valuable in defining the composition, and similarly, astrology can be a useful tool in our endeavors to assemble our internal landscape.

This is all to say, when I ask this question, I don’t want you to roll your eyes (internally or outwardly). I want you to text your parents (or whoever would know) and ask them what time you were born. I want to pull up Café Astrology and plug in all of your information. I want to have the honor of telling you that you’re a triple Taurus, or maybe you’re a Gemini with a Scorpio Moon and Capricorn Rising. And then I want to open at least seven other tabs to try to figure out what that means, watch you nod or shake your head with conviction as I read the signs’ descriptions to you.

I want to do all of this because, yes, you may learn more about yourself, but we will also know more about each other by the end. Often, the more you know about someone, the more compassion you have for them. Maybe the more you learn about yourself, the more compassion you’ll have for yourself, as well. I meet astrology with a healthy mix of whimsy and skepticism, so I am not the right person to convince you of its validity, but I implore you to entertain the idea that we, as humans, are not so special that we’re immune to celestial events. In a world that is constantly vying for our division, I don’t think it could hurt if we had a little more flirty, fun, silly astrology in the mix to bring us closer to ourselves and each other.