You know the deal. I’m not a professional astrologer, I’m just a guy who pushes words around on the screen and watches what happens. But lately, I kept bumping into the same pattern, especially with my Virgo friends. It’s like a car crash you can see coming from a mile away. So, I decided to ditch the usual gentle advice and drill down on the actual practical failures they need to stop doing. That’s how this week’s post, focusing on those specific ‘Love Fails,’ got started.
My entire process for this post kicked off about three weeks ago when my buddy Tom—a textbook Virgo, always rearranging his spice rack and stressing about the font on his email—got dumped. Again. He phoned me up for the usual whine session, which I listened to for maybe five minutes before I cut him off.
“Dude,” I said, “you spent the whole date critiquing the restaurant’s lighting and then analyzing her word choice when she ordered a salad. What did you expect?”
He got mad, but it sparked the idea for me. It wasn’t about predicting cosmic opportunities; it was about documenting the self-sabotage. So I turned my frustration into a plan.
The Research Process: From Anecdote to Pattern
I started with the basics. I opened three different well-known astrology sites and three popular dating advice forums. I ignored all the generic ‘Venus entering the third house’ garbage. I wasn’t looking for planet movements; I was looking for common human complaints about Virgos in relationships. I used rough terms in the search bars like “why did my virgo leave me” or “virgo nitpicking.” Not professional at all, just getting to the messy truth.
I spent two straight hours copying all the negative, practical, specific complaints into a simple notes app. I ended up with a long list of ugly behaviors. My job then became to filter this massive pile of digital dirt into three distinct, repeated fails.
I kept seeing the same four points pop up again and again. They were like the Four Horsemen of a Virgo breakup:
- The Over-Analyzer: They overthink every text message, every glance, every silence. They create a problem where none exists.
- The Constant Critic: They focus on the tiny flaws—the crooked picture frame, the slightly misplaced word, the less-than-perfect plan. They can’t relax.
- The Emotional Wall: They hide their feelings, masking them with endless organization and helpfulness, which just makes their partner feel distant.
- The Perfectionist Trap: They hold their partner—and themselves—to an impossible, sterile standard that kills all the fun and spontaneity.
I took the top three most recurring, hurtful ones (Over-Analyzer, Critic, Perfectionist) and decided to structure the post around those.
Drafting the Fails and the Real Talk
This is the part where I put on my ‘tough love’ hat. I wasn’t writing soothing platitudes. I was writing a kick in the pants. Each ‘Fail’ section had to be structured like this:
- Identify the specific “Fail.”
- State why it messes things up (using simple, action-oriented verbs).
- Provide a super basic, easy-to-follow, practical action to stop doing it.
For example, for The Constant Critic, I didn’t say “Try to be more accepting.” I wrote something like: “STOP using observation as a weapon. When you see a flaw, just close your mouth. Focus on what’s right for five minutes. That’s the practice. You don’t have to fix everything immediately. This is not a project management exercise.”
I did the same thing for the other two. I spent about 90 minutes refining the language, making sure the tone sounded like I was chatting over a cheap coffee, not giving a lecture. It had to feel real and a little rough around the edges.
Hitting the ‘Post’ Button and the Aftermath
I spent maybe 15 minutes uploading and tagging everything, proofing it quickly, and then I hit the publish button. I learned a long time ago that if I overthink my own posts, I never get them out. The irony of publishing an article about not over-analyzing while over-analyzing the publishing process is not lost on me, trust me.
The best part came later that day. I sent the link to Tom, the source of my inspiration. He messaged back maybe an hour later. The text literally said: “You’re an ass, but I read the ‘Perfectionist Trap’ section twice. I did that with Sarah, literally about the way she organized her books. Goddammit.”
That right there? That was the entire point of the practice. It wasn’t about giving advice; it was about documenting a common human failure pattern and making one person—one frustrating, overly critical, good-hearted person—actually look at their own crap. Practice complete. Now, I need to figure out what sign I should roast next week. Maybe I should check my own chart first, just in case.
