You can still have a great 2026 even if you're a Scorpio
Every week, PhilSTAR L!fe explores issues and topics from the perspectives of different age groups, encouraging healthy but meaningful conversations on why they matter. This is Generations by our Gen Z columnist Angel Martinez.
2026 literally just started, yet it seems I’m being pulled in several different directions. I’ve been told to launch new projects and revamp my living space; to be cautious in relationships and discuss financial expectations; basically overhaul my entire life path. Seeking signs from the stars sends me into a state of analysis paralysis. But as the past few years have so unkindly pointed out, absolutely anything can happen so I appreciate all the guidance I can get.
I’m sure this is the same logic my fellow members of Gen Z are operating on. While we wouldn’t expect this of the conservative and Catholic Philippines, astrology is a manifestation of our split-level Christianity: “the coexistence within the same person of two or more thought and behavior systems which are inconsistent with each other.”
Long before we learned to look at horoscopes, Filipinos already believed in cosmic signs and unseen forces. Pre-colonial communities consulted spiritual leaders or babaylans, and relied on cultural concepts like tadhana in deciding for the collective. Studies even found that interest in astrology spikes during great uncertainty—the Great Depression in the 1930s, the two world wars, and, of course, the pandemic. In a way, this belief grounds us, giving us a sliver of an explanation when nothing seems to make sense.
For us Zers, we saw it as both an anchor and an avenue for self-definition. Many of us have explored outside of organized religion and constructed our own meaning of faith and spirituality. In the process, we’ve stumbled across the zodiac’s unconventional wisdom. By extension, people have used astrology “to freely address the negative aspects of themselves and the areas of their lives they want to improve, [as well] as the parts of their personalities that they enjoy,” as astrologer Psychic Solas tells Vox.
Overly identifying with these stereotypes, however, has served as a convenient scapegoat for those who want to avoid accountability. After all, it is much easier to blame some predetermined celestial patterns for why we’re such hurt human beings, instead of looking inward and doing the hard work of healing. If you had an aversion to commitment, would you rather say it’s your Libra sun at play, or open up about your unstable family situation growing up? The answer is glaringly obvious.
Reliance on astrology has also led to reckless choices with real consequences. Thrice a year, Mercury—the planet supposedly responsible for communication, travel, and technology—appears to move backward in the sky. These periods of “retrograde” are routinely used as an excuse to reconnect with people who are out of our lives for a reason, and have been blamed for missed flights, broken gadgets, and workplace misalignments.
Personally, there is no force in the galaxy strong enough to compel my fingers to send “I miss you” to someone who doesn’t deserve it. However, we all have a member of our circles who will take any chance to excuse their actions, knowing that there is a convenient planetary movement dictating their self-inflicted suffering.
Instances of divine self-sabotage can manifest in other ways: I remember learning of a college crush’s birth chart from a mutual friend and feeling a chill go down my spine the more I read into it, as if there was no possibility of redemption. Should I cut him off as early as now? I found myself thinking. Gemini-Cancer pairings never work out anyway. In the end, he did turn out to be sketchy, but I know now that there were several factors behind our incompatibility.
How many times have we robbed ourselves of the opportunity to connect with another, based solely on when and what time they were born? True, we’re not required to extend understanding towards everyone. But the harm lies in routinely repackaging personality disorders or character flaws as intrinsic parts of our personhood, as opposed to something that can be addressed or changed.
Don’t get me wrong: I am not advocating against the practice. I will continue scrolling through TikTok slideshows to find out which Disney princess is a Cancer, or taking any cosmic advice my algorithm brings me during a tough day.
I just think that our astrological placements were always meant to be instructive and not definitive. “Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t,” as the popular adage goes. At the end of the day, I am the kind of person I am because of the experiences that shaped me and the people who love me; and the coming year will be the best I’ll have because of what I'll choose to do, not what the hands of fate will decide for me.
Generations by Angel Martinez appears weekly at PhilSTAR L!fe.
