Man, let me tell you, dating was a dumpster fire for me. Seriously. Swiped left, swiped right, swiped myself into a spiral of despair. Every single app felt like it was designed to make you feel like crap. I was just tired, you know? Worn out. I’d given up on ever finding someone decent, let alone a “soulmate.” I just wanted someone who didn’t ghost me after three dates.
One particularly miserable Tuesday, I was scrolling through some random newsfeed – probably trying to avoid actual work – and I saw this thing. “Pisces Moon Sign Monthly Love Horoscope: Attract Your Soulmate!” I’m a Pisces moon, always have been, and honestly, I’d usually just glance at that stuff, maybe chuckle, and move on. But that day? That day, I was desperate enough to click it. I mean, what else did I have to lose besides my sanity?
I read it. And it was all flowery language about “inner peace” and “manifesting love through self-care” and “being open to the universe’s gifts.” Total airy-fairy stuff. My first thought was, “Yeah, right, like a bubble bath is gonna get me a boyfriend.” But something in my tired brain just… snapped. I was like, “Okay, fine. Let’s see how stupid this really is. I’m going to actually try this for a month.”
My Crazy Tracking System Kicks Off
I found an old, unused notebook, one of those cheap spiral-bound ones, and I grabbed a pen. My first entry was basically an eye-roll in writing: “January – Pisces Moon Love Horoscope. Says I need to focus on inner balance. Whatever that means. Probably just means more naps.” I started a new page for each month. Every time I’d check the horoscope – I found a few different sites I liked, just to cross-reference the nonsense – I’d jot down the key “advice” for the month. Then, on the next page, I’d put “My Actions.”
- Month 1: The horoscope talked about “clearing emotional clutter.” I wrote down: “Deactivated dating apps. Cleaned my apartment. Cried a bit, then watched a dumb rom-com.” Not exactly soulmate material, but hey, I did stuff.
- Month 2: It was all about “nurturing existing connections.” I’d been neglecting my friends, hiding away. So I forced myself to reach out. “Called Sarah. Grabbed coffee with Tom. Went to that lame trivia night even though I hated it.” I wrote down who I talked to, what we did.
- Month 3: “Embrace vulnerability.” This one felt rough. I hated being vulnerable. But I wrote it down. My actions list: “Told my sister I was feeling really lonely. Let a guy at the coffee shop make small talk instead of glaring at him. Didn’t pretend I knew everything in a group discussion.” Each time I wrote something, I’d add a little note about how it felt. Usually, “awkward as hell.”
I kept this up, month after month. It became this weird ritual. Every end of the month, I’d read the new horoscope, scribble down the bullet points, and then throughout the next month, I’d be consciously doing things. If it said “be open to unexpected encounters,” I’d make sure to take a different route to work, or actually look up from my phone when I was out. If it said “cultivate self-love,” I’d list every single small thing I did for myself, like buying myself a nicer coffee, or spending an extra ten minutes just chilling without guilt.
The Hard Parts and What Stuck
There were plenty of times I wanted to throw that notebook across the room. Especially when some months the advice felt so vague, I just didn’t know what to do. And other times, I’d follow it, write everything down meticulously, and nothing. Literally nothing would change. No charming strangers, no sudden sparks. Just me, my notebook, and another lonely Friday night.
I’d ask myself, “Why am I doing this? This is stupid. I’m talking to a horoscope.” But then I’d look back at my notes. And I’d see a pattern. Even if the “love” part wasn’t happening, I was changing. I was going out more. I was talking to people more. I was actually doing things for myself instead of just sitting around feeling sorry for myself. The “recording” part wasn’t really about the horoscope being right, it was about me holding myself accountable.
The notebook wasn’t just a record of horoscope advice anymore. It became a record of my efforts. Of me pushing past my comfort zone. Of me discovering that “self-love” wasn’t just a fluffy phrase, but actually doing things that made me feel better about myself, even small ones. It became this personal diary of forced self-improvement, all sparked by a silly love horoscope.
Did It Even Work?
So, did I attract my soulmate? Well, here’s the kicker. About eight months into this whole ridiculous project, I met someone. Not in some grand, cosmic, “written in the stars” way. I met him at a friend’s barbecue – a barbecue I almost didn’t go to, because honestly, I was feeling lazy. But that month’s horoscope had a line about “embracing social opportunities, even small ones.” So I pushed myself.
We hit it off. And as we got to talking, really talking, I realized something. All those little things I’d been doing, all those awkward conversations and moments of vulnerability I’d forced myself through, they’d made me… different. More open. Less cynical. I was actually present, listening, and not immediately shutting down. I talked about my interests, I asked about his. I felt comfortable being myself, which was a huge shift.
He’s not a “soulmate” in the romantic movie sense where violins play and doves fly. He’s just a really good guy, and we connect on a deep level. We’ve been together for over a year now. And sometimes, when I’m feeling goofy, I pull out that old, beat-up notebook. I flip through the pages, all those clumsy notes and forced actions. It wasn’t the horoscope itself that delivered him to my door, that’s for sure. But it was the push I needed, the silly little system I created, that made me ready for him when he finally showed up.
