What Time Were You Born
Art by Christina Casper
When it comes to a blossoming romance, an astrological chart has always been my key to being delusional. “What time and place were you born at?” I ask, with a twinkle in my eye, hoping to uncover the cosmic secrets of compatibility. “No, I don't want your social security number; I’m not crazy. I’m just a firm believer that each and every one of our holistic identities are written in the stars.” Actually, maybe I don’t believe in that either, but it’s fun to pretend.
Love is complex. With the emotion straddling illusion and reality, it often begins with idealized images of our partners. Much like consulting a birth chart, we romanticize elements of people before we truly get to know them.
Astrological charts are fun, entertaining, and self-reflective guides into compatibility and what we like. While they’re not scientifically backed, and maybe all the cancers I’ve dated really were just coincidences, I can’t help but feel that there’s something more to it. Reading a birth chart is like test driving a person, and I’m at the point in my life where I don’t need to hook up with another water sign.
Clarifying some misconceptions: astrology is more than just sun signs, and no two charts are identical due to the numerical precision of astrology. Also, zodiac rivalries don’t exist. Bestselling astrologist author Colin Bedell writes, “Every sign is compatible with every sign.” Each chart pairing just details specific issues that are likely to be faced, but astrological insight can be used to overcome those tensions.
Although my knowledge is fairly basic compared to the entire field, I use astrology in many facets of my life. Whenever I get googly eyes for a new target, I find out their birthday ASAP. Thankfully, those I'm drawn to aren’t as astrology-obsessed as I am, so they don’t quite grasp the power of the birth chart. Stay safe; I’m never telling a cute stranger when and where I was born or my social security.
Beyond the big three, my favorite planets to analyze are Venus and Mars. In astrology, Venus represents love, relationships, and beauty. I’m both an Aries Sun and Venus, making me direct and eager to make the first move. The huge flirt allegations are true, but when someone is interested in me back, I typically disengage. Entering a relationship can be challenging for me, but leaving is even harder. I dated a Gemini Venus once, and they were initially intense but later displayed a split attention. Gemini Venuses thrive on mental stimulation and exploring diverse connections, making it a challenge to keep them engaged. This chase was fun for me, but over time proved to stress me out. While neither placement is superior, our preferences were better matched outside that relationship.
When asked about her zodiac views, Emerson student Hailey Bochette ‘24 said she didn’t care much for it. She knew her chart was Scorpio heavy, but that wasn’t a considerable factor in selecting who she dated. Meanwhile, she beamed up at the next question, “Have you found any patterns in the zodiac signs you’re typically attracted to?” For some unknown reason, Sagittariuses hold her captive. Scorpios and Sagittarians are neighboring signs, an unconjunct match. These two signs have little in common with one another, but as they accommodate each other’s identities, a deep-seated loyalty grows. Sometimes opposites attract!
For me, my Achilles heel is always the Cancer Suns/Gemini Moons. Sparks fly when I meet them and the conversation flows so well, but then they get friendzoned. Last year I liked a guy with a chart too similar to one of my best friends, so I ditched those feelings immediately before they could get to a real point.
Emerson student Haydn Kelley ‘26 told me, “Even if they liked my sign, I would never want to be with someone who used that as a way to judge people.” That’s an easy take to get behind, but the way I see it is that I’m navigating my romantic interests more consciously. If someone’s birth chart can turn me off from their whole person, there were probably bigger foundational issues.
Just as fun to analyze, but for more physical purposes, are the Mars placements which reveal a person’s energy, drive, assertiveness, and sexual desires. I’ve always grappled with this planet because I’m a Taurus Mars. Contrary to the rest of my fire dominant chart, this is the only Earth placement holding me down, suggesting that the slow and tactile aspects of sex are really important to me. Taurus Marses are particularly drawn to material comforts like silk sheets, scented candles, and fine dining in order to get them going. They also prefer deep intimate, loyal connections. Each Mars placement has their own preferences, and it’s really fun to look into. Before I learned about my Taurus Mars, I was with partners who would jack rabbit their way through the bedroom, and I used to wish I was more like them. After all, I am an Aries, so I thought I would be.
My favorite part about Mars is that each sign has a most sensual body part that they correlate to. From astrologyzone.com, here is what each sign rules:
Aries- Head and eyes
Taurus- Neck and throat
Gemini- Hands, arms, lungs
Cancer- Breasts, stomach, gallbladder
Leo- Heart, back, spine
Virgo- Intestines, abdomen, spleen
Libra- Lower back, kidneys
Scorpio- Genitals
Sagittarius- Hips and thighs
Capricorn- Knees, bones, skin, teeth
Aquarius- Calves and veins
Pisces- Feet
Knowing your partner’s dominant sign can add excitement to your intimacy– just remember to seek consent before tickling someone’s gallbladder.
At the end of the day, astrology isn’t a pragmatic rulebook to dictate your life’s choices. But it offers a playful and reassuring way to navigate the often awkward terrain of love and intimacy, making these experiences feel less daunting. Next time it’s 2am and you’re stuck staring at your ceiling, thinking of that special someone, try some cosmic world-building. It’s fun, delusional, and awfully comforting.