Stop Assuming I’m Free-Spirited Just Because I’m A Sagittarius

August 31, 2019 by , featured in Spiritual Wellness
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It always happens the same way. Within minutes of meeting someone new, they will, of course, ask me what my sign is. I take a deep breath, center myself, and with a great sigh, admit that I’m a Sagittarius. Their ears prick up. “Ah,” they’re thinking, “the sign known for adventurousness, independence, and curiosity.” They never actually say it out loud (I could then just say “Actually, no, I’m very boring,” and that would be the end of it). No, that would be too easy.

I’m not an idiot; I believe in astrology (I even believe our signs can tell us things like how we will eventually die, or where we’d have sex at Hogwarts). And I’m acutely aware of the fact that if my mother had held out just one more week I could have been a Capricorn, and none of this would ever be an issue. I would love to be a Capricorn! Capricorns are strong-willed but practical and traditional. That’s totally me! It would be totally worth celebrating my birthday way closer to Christmas. At least no one would ever offer me tequila shots with the hope that I’ll start dancing on tables.

Because sorry, everyone, I won’t. I haven’t danced (unchoreographed) in public since eighth-grade homecoming, and I never will again. Contrary to what you believe, I have no desire to jump into a fountain. These shoes cost me a lot of money, and they can’t get wet. No, I can’t “just take them off.” Go barefoot in public? I might as well take my shirt off. No, I’m not doing that, either. This is exactly what I’m talking about.

The worst is men. As a centaur lady, they expect me to be wild and uninhibited in the bedroom. Bad news, bucko: It’s missionary with the lights off, or it’s nothing. They always think I want to be swept away on an impromptu trip to Paris or other grand romantic gestures. No, thank you! I just want a quiet dinner at home where nobody smiles too much. Is that so much to ask?

At the end of the day, I just wish people would stop judging me by the constellation under which I was born instead of the content of my character. Maybe, one day, people will be allowed to be whoever they want to be, no matter what sign they are. Except Cancers. Cancers are trash.

Images: Pexels

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