So, why am I digging up a `virgo monthly horoscope july 2020`? Trust me, it’s not because I suddenly think the stars are talking to me again. I stopped listening to that jazz a long time ago. The reason is simple: a couple of weeks ago, my current situation, let’s just say, hit a snag. A big snag. And when things go sideways, your brain starts looking for patterns, for blame, for anything that suggests you saw the train coming.
I remember July 2020 being a rough patch—not just for the world, but personally. It was the peak of the panic, the job uncertainty, the feeling that everything was outside my control. Naturally, I turned to the only thing that promised a little peek behind the curtain: astrology. I was looking for a cheat sheet on how to handle my bills, my sanity, and yes, my relationship, which was already strained from being locked in the same small apartment together for months on end.
The Dig and The Discovery
My first practical step was the hunt. I knew I had read it, but where? I pored over old emails. I sifted through ancient bookmarks. I even logged into some junk forum I haven’t touched since that year. It was a digital archeological dig. Turns out, I had screenshot the key part and buried it in a folder labeled “Plans B and Z” on my desktop. I pulled out the image, and there it was—the Virgo prediction for July 2020, specifically the relationship part.
The write-up—I’m paraphrasing the clunky internet language here—basically said three things about relationships that month:
- You’re gonna need space, physically or emotionally.
- There will be a confrontation about shared resources or finance.
- A past romantic or social connection reappears, forcing a decision.
I stared at those three points today, nearly five years later, and it made me laugh, but also nod.
Lining Up the Stars with the Scars
My next step was the actual analysis, the real practice. I got out an old journal I kept intermittently back then—the one where I just scribbled down my daily gripes. I began cross-referencing the “cosmic advice” with my messy reality.
The first point, “space,” was a joke. We were in lockdown. Zero space. But the emotional space? Turns out, that’s exactly what I did. I turned off my phone notifications and took up wood-burning just to have three hours a day when I wasn’t talking to or looking at my partner. I claimed the small balcony as my “solo studio.” I actively created that space, fulfilling the first point, even if I didn’t know I was. It wasn’t the stars; it was survival.
The financial confrontation? Oh, that hit home hard. July 2020 was when my old job went from “maybe part-time” to “definitely gone.” We had a screaming match in the kitchen over how much rice we were buying and whether we should cash out a minor investment to pay the next month’s rent. The horoscope didn’t just mention confrontation; it specified “shared resources.” Nailed it, whether by chance or vague generality. I recorded that as a “Yes, Actual Event.”
The past connection reappearing? That’s where it gets interesting, and it’s what brought me here today. Back then, I remember scoffing. No exes were calling. But when I read through my journal again, I realized the “past social connection” wasn’t romantic. It was my old business partner from ten years ago. He phoned up out of the blue, offering me a bizarre, brief consulting gig that saved my financial butt for about six weeks. It wasn’t a lover, but it was a past connection that forced a decision—take this weird job or panic more. I wrote down: “Reinterpreted, but essentially correct outcome.”
Why I Even Bothered with This Junk Back Then
Now, this is the part I really need to share, the “why” behind this whole ridiculous exercise. It ties back to that initial feeling in July 2020. I didn’t care about the stars. I cared about control.
The truth is, I ended up looking at those predictions every month for a year because I got fired in the middle of all that chaos. Not laid off—fired. I spent two years trying to climb the ladder at that firm, making sacrifices, putting in the hours, and then one Tuesday Zoom call, it was just done. No warning, just a quick “We are restructuring.”
I felt completely rudderless. I went from a meticulous planner to a guy who had to ask his landlord for a payment extension. That feeling of utter helplessness? It drove me to anything that looked like a script for the future, even if it was written by some internet stranger who didn’t know a Virgo from a Venus flytrap. I held onto that silly prediction like a life raft, hoping that if I just knew what crisis was coming, I could prepare, even if only emotionally.
The full analysis today showed me that the stars didn’t cause the events; the events caused me to look for the stars. The relationship survived July 2020 not because of a prediction, but because we were both too freaked out by the bills to break up. It confirmed what I always suspected: the real magic isn’t in what the stars say, but in how we react to the stress they predict.
So, the final realization: The July 2020 Virgo Relationship prediction was spot on, but only because my life was such a hot mess that any general advice about “confrontation” or “past regrets” was bound to stick. I shut down the laptop feeling a lot less anxious about this current snag, knowing that if I faced the 2020 mess by myself, I can sure as heck handle this one too.
