The Honest Truth About That Virgo Success Reading
I swear, I only clicked on that stupid email because the headline promised “Big Success.” You know how it is. You’re sitting there, drinking your lukewarm coffee, staring at the screen, and secretly hoping some ancient cosmic force is going to drop a winning lottery ticket in your lap. I’m a Virgo, yeah, but usually, I trash this stuff. But this week? I was feeling desperate. Bills were piling up and that big project I’d been pitching for six months finally went stone-cold silent. I needed a kick in the pants, or maybe just some cosmic permission slip to take a huge risk.
I read the whole thing. The reading didn’t talk about tidy desks or organizing my spreadsheets, which is what they usually drone on about. Nope. This one focused on “Unusual financial alignments” and “Leveraging forgotten connections.” It claimed that the universe was demanding immediate, high-stakes action involving old contacts, specifically ones related to a creative failure from the past. If I ignored this push, the success window would slam shut. Big success, the reading swore, would only arrive if I acted on a situation I’d already written off as dead.
So I decided to treat it like a serious assignment. This was my practice, my experiment. I had to define “forgotten connections” and “creative failure.” I immediately pulled up the contact list for that disastrous attempt we made back in 2020 to launch a consulting service focused on niche marketing. We lost a pile of money, arguments flared up, and everyone just kind of drifted away. Talking to those people again felt like scratching an old, painful scab, but the reading insisted.
My initial action plan was simple, but aggressive.
- I spent all of Monday night hunting down old email addresses and phone numbers.
- Tuesday, I drafted customized messages, not asking for work, but asking for a brutally honest assessment of why that 2020 project tanked. I figured if I was going to leverage failure, I needed to wrestle with it first.
- I sent out twenty-three highly detailed emails before midnight.
Honestly, the first 48 hours were miserable. Crickets. I checked my spam filter three times. I re-read the astrology article, trying to find a loophole where I could just quit and go back to watching documentaries. The sheer awkwardness of reaching out to people I hadn’t spoken to since yelling matches felt heavy. I even considered lying to my wife and saying I was working on a totally different project, just so I didn’t have to admit I was following advice from a weekly horoscope.
The Mid-Week Grind and the Pivot
By Wednesday morning, I had two replies. Both were polite brush-offs. “Busy,” “Can’t help,” “Good luck.” Total letdown. I hit a wall. I wanted to throw my laptop across the room. This felt exactly like when I tried to teach myself Mandarin for six months and finally realized my brain just doesn’t work that way. I pushed myself to keep going, remembering that line: “embrace immediate, high-effort networking.”
I changed my approach. I didn’t send any more emails. I picked up the phone. I dialed the number for Mark, the finance guy from that old team. Mark was always the harshest critic. He answered on the fourth ring, sounding annoyed. I didn’t waste time. I spilled out the whole story about the reading, the “big success” promise, and how stupid I felt. I confessed I was only calling because some celestial garbage told me to. I challenged him to tear my old ideas apart.
That honesty was the pivot. Mark laughed. He didn’t offer me a job, or money, or a miraculous solution. But he told me that he had been chatting with another former colleague, Jessica, about a different venture—a small tech integration service—and they needed someone who could handle the content strategy, which I was always good at. Mark said he wouldn’t have thought of me if I hadn’t called, but my sudden, weird persistence, spurred by a horoscope or not, impressed him. He put me in touch with Jessica.
Did the Stars Align?
The rest of the week was a frenzy. I met Jessica Friday morning. We talked for four hours straight. It wasn’t the exact “big success” I imagined—no sudden wealth or immediate retirement—but it was infinitely better. Jessica offered me a partnership role, a real stake in something solid, based entirely on the skill set I had developed after the 2020 failure. It’s a massive, tangible step up from the freelance hustle I was stuck in.
So, was the reading true? Yeah, in a backward, ridiculous way. The stars didn’t magically deliver success. They just shoved me into a corner and forced me to pick up the phone and deal with the painful stuff I had been avoiding. The “big success” wasn’t written in the cosmos; it was hidden underneath the uncomfortable act of reconnecting and being honest about failure. I executed the action plan, and the action delivered the opportunity. I finished the week exhausted, slightly embarrassed for listening to an email, but definitely holding a new contract. I guess sometimes, the universe just needs to trick a Virgo into doing the hard work.
