Alright so I was scrolling through Virgo memes last weekend – don’t judge me, we all have our phases – and stumbled on this whole “5 steps to snag a Virgo man” thing. Honestly? I was bored, slightly skeptical, and hey, there’s this kinda quiet, analytical guy in my yoga class who fits the Virgo mold. Figured, why not guinea pig myself? Spoiler alert: it got… interesting.
The Starting Point & Step 1
First things first, I needed a target. Meet “Mark” – early 30s, always shows up exactly on time, organizes his yoga mat painfully straight, and gives super precise pointers if you ask about a pose (which I did, obviously). Textbook Virgo. Step 1 said: Demonstrate Reliability. Be Consistent. Basically, become someone they can predict. So, for two weeks straight, I became Yoga Class Zen Master.
- Showed up 10 minutes early every single Monday/Wednesday class.
- Chose the same spot near the back.
- Kept my water bottle, towel, props in the exact same order beside my mat.
- Even wore similar colors – lots of calm blues and greys, nothing flashy.
Did he notice? Oh yeah. Around day 5, he gave a tiny nod when I walked in. By week two, he actually held eye contact for a second longer than usual. Subtle, but for a Virgo, that’s basically fireworks.
Step 2 & The “Uh Oh” Moment
Step 2 screamed: Show Intellectual Curiosity. Engage His Brain. Virgos supposedly love a sharp mind. Perfect! After class one Wednesday, I asked him about the anatomy behind a tricky hamstring stretch – something I knew he’d geek out on. Boom. His eyes lit up. We talked tendons and technique for a solid 10 minutes. Success? Felt like it.
But then I got cocky. Next class, I tried Step 3: Subtly Offer Practical Help. Fix a Tiny Problem. I noticed his mat was sliding a bit. Smoothly (I thought), I slid over one of my extra grip towels and mumbled, “This might help?” He stared at it. Then at me. Long pause. He said, very evenly, “My mat has a non-slip backing. It’s designed for this surface.” Cue internal screaming. Big mistake. I basically implied his gear was inadequate. Rookie error. He barely glanced at me the rest of class. So much for practical help.
Damage Control & Step 4
Mortified, I retreated. Didn’t even try Step 3 again. Focused back on being reliable (Step 1) and prepared to cut my losses. Step 4 popped up: Respect His Need for Order & Space. Don’t Smother. Basically, back. off. So I did. I kept my routine, but dialed way down on the interaction. Just quiet nods, focused on my own practice.
Surprisingly, he initiated after a few days of radio silence. He stopped me leaving and pointedly asked, “Did that grip towel actually work well for you? My sister’s looking for one.” A peace offering! We had a short, pleasant chat just about yoga gear. No unsolicited fixing! Lesson learned.
The Grand Finale? Step 5
Step 5 seemed risky after the towel fiasco: Express Genuine Appreciation For His Efforts. Not fake flattery, but noticing the stuff he actually does. Next class, after he helped the instructor adjust a new student’s alignment (quietly, efficiently, typical Mark), I caught him on the way out.
“Hey Mark,” I said, keeping it simple. “I saw you helping Sarah with that pose earlier. The way you explained it was really clear. She nailed it afterward.” No gushing, just fact.
He paused. Adjusted his bag strap. Cleared his throat. Then, a small, genuine smile. “Oh. Yeah. Just wanted to make sure she didn’t strain her knee.” He nodded again. “Thanks for noticing.” Actual acknowledgment! And maybe, just maybe, a hint of warmth?
So… Did He Fall Madly in Love?
Ha! Absolutely not. This isn’t a rom-com montage. But something did shift.
- Reliability built familiarity.
- Brainy chat sparked interest.
- The towel disaster taught me critical boundaries.
- Respecting space built some trust back.
- Genuine appreciation seemed to land positively.
Now? We chat easily before/after class. He remembers random things I mention (“You said you liked that Ethiopian place – they just opened a new branch downtown”). He even offered a spot beside him last week (“Less draft here”).
Is he in love? Who knows? But the ice is properly thawed. He sees me now – reliable, respectful, someone who notices his quiet competence. Would these steps alone get him to propose? Probably not. But as a way to get noticed and build rapport with that super particular Virgo energy? Yeah, it kinda works… if you avoid making them feel incompetent. That towel will haunt me forever.
