Signing Off

An exploration of me, you, and the stars

By Kylie Heider

“But I’m a Pisces!”

It was something I found myself saying often and without shame, a catch-all to excuse my erratic, sensitive behavior. I lay lamenting, prostrate on the floor of my friend Claire’s dorm, my body overcome by a feeling, a tightening in my chest, which contorted outward and filled my shoulders and my spine to settle delicately inside my fingertips. I had a crush. A Leo. A lion, apparently, confident and straightforward, rebellious, passionate. And me, a textbook Pisces: daydream-y, creative, gentle, intuitive. I couldn’t help but wonder: could it ever work? 

Maybe this situation sounds familiar to you. Maybe you too have found yourself suddenly and inexplicably preoccupied with the will of the stars and the tension held within their celestial alignments. There are literally millions of accounts across Twitter and Instagram dedicated to what signs behave in what ways. They post memes of overemotional water signs and chaotic fire signs. They post the signs as screencaps of comedy specials or characters from TV shows. They post poignant revelations as guidance for the future. New multi-million dollar apps like Co-Star and The Pattern have cornered the mobile horoscope market. In the last few years, social media has incubated a phenomenon of astrological ideology in its’ largely Gen-Z user base, prompting a stratosphere of youth culture in which astrological identification acts as a cornerstone of social identity. Asking,“What’s your sign?” comes only a few steps after, “What’s your name?” As my friend Isis’ take on the topic stipulates, “We’re all just trying to understand ourselves and each other.” Because who wouldn’t want a cheat code to the human personality? We all desire a compass for navigating the core traits of those we are surrounded by, guiding us through the mechanisms of our relationships.

Ancient Egyptians are credited as the first astrologers. Later, they transferred the practice to the Babylonians, then finally to the Greek tradition that is most widely seen today. In essence, the pseudoscience of astrology is based on the assignment of specific personality traits to certain dates of birth in accordance to the positioning of celestial bodies. Young people have been raised on the attachment to these vague, prescriptivist personalities, starting at the turn of the millennium with personality quizzes in teen and tween magazines.  As the 2000s went on, we found new ways to identify ourselves in a larger pop cultural entity, whether it be Hogwarts Houses or the seemingly infinite Buzzfeed quizzes to test which Disney Princess we were. The resurgence of astrological identity within pop culture is the most honed, magnified incarnation of these superlative diagnoses of personality.  With the mass introduction of the digital social network into the lives of the public, our relationships with ourselves and others began to take on a new edge of performance in the arena of social perception, and our attention spans rapidly deteriorate. Perfectly suited for the era of the internet, astrology fills the gaping void between the craving for true connection and the necessity for celerity. It tells you what to do and how to feel, and we fulfill its prophecies by noticing and performing the traits we are assigned, making it “work.” All you need is a birthday, and every wonder you’ve had about yourself, your friends, or your Leo crush can be instantly gratified. 

It’s hard to say whether the resurrection of astrology as a belief system, at least at the casual level, is a good or bad thing. On one hand, its resurgence is simply a reflection of people’s earnest yearning to understand each other. On the other, it exposes our unwillingness to achieve this in a way that is based in reality. Perhaps if we allow ourselves to be cognizant of the complex emotional facets that are present within all people we encounter, and not just because they were born at a certain time, we can come to realize a more truthful sublimity that can be found in vulnerable human relationships. After all, people aren’t just one thing.

Wake Mag