My Mom’s an Actual Astrologer and Here’s What It’s Really Like

My Mom’s an Actual Astrologer and Here’s What It’s Really Like

“You’re very fertile this week sweetie, so be careful. Love you,” my mom warned on a voicemail she left for me.

I was halfway across the world then. Maybe I was in Japan? Or was it Bali? To be fair, I’m losing track these days. My mother, Kim Tigar, an astrologer for more than thirty years, blames my wanderlust on the fact I have Sagittarius rising, that it gives me an appetite for exploring foreign lands.

She also reminds me that I’m lucky to do what I was put on the planet to do, thanks to something-or-another in my midheaven, making me a natural born writer—a person whose voice can impact and help other people.


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As for my less than stellar love life? That is due to my Chiron falling in the seventh house of love and relationships, creating my star-studded Achilles heel. Well, that and having a moon in Scorpio, which even casual horoscope readers know signifies intensity, passion and okay, a bit of jealousy. (Hey, I’m working on it.)

Do I believe in all of these facets? Do I subscribe to the notion that, back in 1988, the moment I took my first breath, the solar system designed me in a way that can be read by star experts? I’m not entirely convinced, but it’s a philosophy I’ve grown accustomed to since I was born. As the daughter of a nearly lifelong astrologer, hearing about orbits and trines, squares, degrees, house cusps and Mercury’s inevitable retrograde was ordinary, everyday dinner table conversation. It was never weird or taboo, but a part of my upbringing, the vernacular of my childhood. Some children’s parents give them financial advice. My mom ensures I understand the tides. And while she was careful not to divulge too much about my personal natal chart until I was a teenager, she told me she used the information to help raise me.

In fact, when she found out she was pregnant and found out my due date, she was excited to have a Libra: calm natured, all about balance and relationships, easy-going and fair. So when she went into labor three-and-a-half weeks early and gave birth to me, a Virgo with Mars in Aries, she knew she was in for a different type of child.


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She let the stars help guide her, as they have since she was 13-years-old, into motherhood. I’m fiercely independent but rather than instruct me she gave me choices: this kindergarten outfit or this one? This chore or that one? And because she knew I needed an outlet to express my creativity, she filled my bedroom with arts and crafts, notebook paper and pens, and even a Playskool Recorder, where I first exercised my journalism chops.

She knew I tended to get emotional when my moon took over my sun, so she taught me coping mechanisms to calm my spirit. She welcomed any and every friend I made over the years, from fellow Virgos and Aquarians to Geminis and Cancers, into our home, and excitedly shared the secrets behind their planets. Sometimes, my pals would come over just to ask my Mom a burning question. She even inspired two of my childhood besties to become astrologers themselves.

And though she didn’t know when my love of the Earth and my insatiable desire to travel would kick in, she suggested they might around 25, when I would fully grow into my chart. And she was right. I got my first passport at my quarter-life, and I’ve been to 29 countries and counting, since.

As I’ve blazed my path and carved out my career, most of which, yep, she helped predict, our relationship has changed. Astrology is a more playful counterpart, not the back pocket parent helping to raise and discipline me. Now, the intrigue of the stars and the sentiments they seem to diverge I find compelling. And I find comfort when my mom tells me that good news is on the way. Or that I might come into money or that I very well could meet my husband. And even when these prophecies aren’t always right (#stillsingle), at least in the moment, it eases my anxieties and gives me hope to keep moving forward. After all, if my mother can believe in something so wholeheartedly and I trust her with all of mine, it can’t be that bad to indulge.

In fact, sometimes, it’s more than helpful.

Like, when she doesn’t care about a new love interest’s profession, and just wants to know his birthday. I’ve become a master of carefully weaving the topic of astrology into the first few dates, knowing I’ll need that information to gain her approval. Or, when she emails me about the movements of the planets, especially when they’re having a tantrum, and I’m able to share the insider info with my friends as their lives turn turbulent.

 

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Sometimes she’ll suggest I hold off on booking plane tickets or signing contracts until the universe calms itself, so I won’t have to backtrack. In fact, she’s a master of choosing dates—eight years ago she decided what day I should move to New York so I’d be able to optimize my success and make a home. And she picked the day I left the city a year ago when I decided to pack up everything I own to go freelance full-time and travel the world for 12 months. She knew this leap of faith would happen during my Saturn Return, which thankfully, wrapped up last November.

I’m now entering a new decade (my 30s!) in September, and she says, in the next year, I will feel more playful and alive, shining an ‘irresistible light’ to those around me (thanks, ma!). She says I’ll have opportunities to speak to large groups, exercise my talents creatively, continue traveling, make new friends and renew my Virgo-like commitment to health. And with the good, sometimes comes the strange. She also tells me (a lot), that I could experience an unexpected pregnancy. I’m not convinced that’s her profession talking though, that last part may be more of a mother’s desire.

The greatest gift of having an astrologer for a mother isn’t the fact that she’s an astrologer though. As much as I savor the reminders that the planets have my back (and of course, my mom does, too), what I really treasure is the way it’s made me a believer in the unknown. Since we can’t quantify or qualify, define or determine the makings of the space beyond our realities, these areas of question can sometimes cause worry. But for me? I have an indefinite, unshakeable, rose-colored and ever-positive impression of the world around me.

I find my inspiration and my wonder in the unexplainable, and I have an innate curiosity to explore what I can’t understand. I’m not afraid of it; rather, I feel empowered. I use it to fuel my writing and give me the courage to take risks and dive deeper. I know, like clockwork, the sun will rise, it’ll fall, the moon will make its nightly appearance, and the stars will scatter above me. The world, much like life, keeps moving.

I trust in the cycles of karma, and I’m vulnerable enough to follow the ways the universe is trying to lead me and to listen to what it’s trying to tell me.

Even if, hey, it sounds a lot like my mom. —By Lindsay Tigar

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Lindsay Tigar is a lifestyle and travel journalist with a decade of experience. Her work has appeared in Travel & Leisure, Vogue, USA Today, Fast Company and others. For her full portfolio, visit lindsaytigar.com or visit her on Instagram.

Photo: Sestrjevitovschii Ina on Unsplash

  
  
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