Man, I gotta tell you, this whole “self-assessment” thing around my September 20 Virgo traits was a whole damn mess, but maybe that was the point. For years, I kinda just accepted the standard horoscope crap: super organized, hyper-critical, obsessed with details. Sounded good on paper, made me sound like I had my stuff together. The reality? Total fiction.
I didn’t start this experiment because I was having a deep existential crisis or anything fancy like that. The actual trigger was way more mundane and frankly, gross. About three months back, my wife finally put her foot down and said the attic was my problem. Not “our problem,” my problem. That place hadn’t seen daylight since we moved in over a decade ago. It was just a graveyard of forgotten junk and half-finished projects.
I dragged myself up there one Saturday morning, sweating my butt off, and after moving about a hundred pounds of old college textbooks, I found it. It was a flimsy spiral notebook from 2003. Inside was a list, written in terrible teenage handwriting, titled: “My True Virgo Destiny.” I’d copied a bunch of traits from some garbage magazine—like “Will Marry an Accountant” and “Must Always Have a Clean Desk.” I laughed my ass off, but then I stopped. I looked around at the chaos of the attic, at the piles of unsorted receipts downstairs, at my bank account, which definitely didn’t belong to an accountant, and I was just hit by this sudden need to know: Had I achieved any of the core traits, even the actual ones they talk about now?
This accidental discovery kicked off the whole thing. I didn’t go to some fancy therapist or download a serious personality test. Nope. I went straight to the source: the internet.
My Messy Virgo Trait Checklist Process
The first thing I did was what any rational person does: I googled “September 20 Virgo traits.” I wrote down a long, ridiculous list of about twenty different attributes on a torn-off piece of cardboard from an Amazon box. My goal wasn’t to be an expert; it was just to see how many of these I actually did, or didn’t do, on a daily basis.
My simple self-assessment guide looked like this:
- The Perfectionist Trait: I decided to test this by trying to organize my tool shed. I bought a label maker and a bunch of clear bins. The assessment was a failure. Within two days, the labels were peeling off, and half the bins were used to store empty soda cans. Result: Minimal accuracy.
- The Analytical Trait: I spent a week tracking my time and money using a spreadsheet. I wanted to see if I was naturally good at analyzing data. I quit after seven days because I realized I spent 90% of my time thinking about what snack I wanted next, and 10% actually working. The data was too depressing to analyze anyway. Result: Low accuracy.
- The Helpful/Service-Oriented Trait: I forced myself to say yes to every single favor asked of me for a full month, no matter how inconvenient. I ended up driving my neighbor’s kid to soccer practice every Tuesday and fixing my sister’s Wi-Fi. It was exhausting. I was helpful, yeah, but only because I felt obligated. Not exactly a deep-seated personality trait. Result: Conditional accuracy.
But the real, most important part of the whole practice was when I dragged my family and a couple of old friends into it. I didn’t frame it as a ‘test.’ I just casually asked them, “Hey, what’s the most Virgo thing about me?” I’m telling you, I got responses I was not expecting. I thought they would talk about how neat my office was, or how efficient I am.
My best friend, Mark, didn’t even hesitate. He said, “You’re organized? Are you kidding me? You’re a mess. But you’re obsessed with tiny, random things. Like, remember when you spent three hours researching the best brand of toilet paper?”
And my wife? She didn’t hold back either. She said my biggest Virgo trait wasn’t being neat; it was the relentless internal chatter—always overthinking the smallest decisions, constantly running a critique of myself, and always, always planning out the worst-case scenario for everything from a traffic jam to a trip to the grocery store.
The Final Realization
The whole purpose of this silly self-assessment wasn’t to check off boxes on some dusty astrology list. The lists were garbage. The stars were just a prompt. The true realization I came away with was this: nobody else saw the “perfectly organized machine” I thought I was supposed to be. They saw the “hyper-critical, overthinking, detail-focused weirdo” I actually am. The traits they pin on September 20th weren’t about external neatness; they were about the internal grinding and analysis that always keeps my brain churning, which, yeah, is pretty damn accurate.
So, are my September 20 Virgo traits accurate? The magazine ones, no. The ones that explain why I drive people nuts with my obsessive attention to tiny details and my tendency to worry myself sick? Absolutely. All it took was a dusty attic, a box of old junk, and annoying my loved ones for a month to figure it out.
