Man, 2020 was a wild ride, wasn’t it? Like everyone else, I was just trying to keep my head above water. Things got real uncertain, real fast. And you know what? Before all that mess, I was never really one for horoscopes. I’m a Virgo, born and bred, and we’re usually pretty grounded, logical folk. But when the world starts to spin out, you look for anything to grab onto, right?
So, somewhere in late 2019, probably because of some random article or an app suggestion, I started casually peeking at my daily Virgo horoscope. Just a quick read, a little eye-roll, then on with my day. It was harmless enough. But then 2020 kicked off, and suddenly, that little daily check became part of my routine. My “practice,” if you will.
I’d wake up, make my coffee, and before I even thought about emails, I’d pull up that horoscope. My thought process was never, “This is going to tell me exactly what’s going to happen.” Nah. It was more like, “Alright, what’s the universe hinting at today? What’s the vibe?” Sometimes it was vague, sometimes it felt oddly specific. My personal “what to expect” was really just about setting a mental stage for myself, not about getting a crystal ball reading.
January and February: The “Curious Skeptic” Phase
In the beginning, it was more of a game. The horoscopes would say stuff like, “Expect a new connection today,” or “A minor challenge may arise.” I’d go through my day, and if someone new said hello, I’d think, “Hey, maybe!” If my computer crashed, I’d chuckle and blame the stars. It wasn’t serious, but it was a structured way to think about my day, to actively look for things that might match the predictions. I was essentially training myself to pay more attention to my surroundings and my own reactions.
March to June: The “Seeking Comfort” Phase
Then, everything went sideways. Lockdowns, uncertainty, just a whole new world. Suddenly, that casual horoscope check took on a slightly different weight. My daily expectation shifted. Instead of looking for external events, I started looking for reassurance, a sense of control, or just something steady in the chaos. The horoscopes often talked about introspection, self-care, focusing on home life. And man, those messages really resonated when there wasn’t much else to focus on. It was like, “Okay, the stars get it. They know I’m stuck inside.” It became a quiet moment of reflection each morning, a way to center myself before diving into the madness of remote work and homeschooling.
July to September: The “Pattern Recognition” Phase
By mid-year, my “practice” became more analytical. I started noticing patterns. Horoscopes for Virgos often touched on work, organization, health, and a bit of self-criticism (classic Virgo, right?). I’d read them and think about my own struggles and triumphs. If it said, “Today is good for tackling long-standing projects,” I’d suddenly feel a little more motivated to clear my desk or finish that nagging task. If it advised patience in communication, I’d try to be more mindful in my online meetings. It wasn’t that the horoscope made me do things, but it often provided a frame or a gentle nudge towards behaviors I already wanted to exhibit. My daily expectation was about leveraging that nudge.
October to December: The “Reflective Closure” Phase
As 2020 wound down, the horoscopes started to feel less about predicting and more about summarizing. Many spoke of looking back, integrating lessons learned, and preparing for new beginnings. It felt like a natural progression. My daily “what to expect” had evolved from external events to internal processing. I’d read the horoscope, and then I’d reflect on my own year, my own personal growth (or lack thereof), and what I truly wanted for the future. It gave me a chance to mentally close out a truly bizarre year, not just by looking at news headlines, but by quietly assessing my own journey.
Looking back, my year-long journey with the Virgo 2020 daily horoscopes wasn’t about believing in cosmic predictions. Not really. It was about establishing a little ritual in a disorienting time. It was about creating a moment each day to pause, reflect, and set a mental intention, even if that intention was loosely guided by a few sentences about my star sign. It taught me a lot about my own need for structure, my drive for self-improvement, and how I find comfort in unexpected places.
It was a strange little anchor in a very stormy year, and I gotta say, it made me think about my own daily expectations in a whole new way.
