Alright folks, grab a cuppa, because today I actually tried something wild – following star sign advice for my Aries self dealing with Leos. Yeah, I know, horoscopes, right? But hey, the internet screams about Aries-Leo fire sign combos, so I figured, why not test-drive it? Here’s exactly what happened, step by messy step.
The Spark & The Plan
First thing this morning, I sat down with my usual not-so-great instant coffee and scrolled through like fifty articles shouting “Aries and Leo: Ultimate Power Couple!” or “Surviving the Fireworks”. Found three big recurring tips everyone swore by:
- Let Leo Shine: Supposedly Leos need that spotlight, and Aries gotta chill with stealing it constantly.
- Direct Communication = Good: Both signs hate mind games, so blunt honesty is supposedly the golden ticket.
- Big Energy Needs Big Fun: If the energy dips? Trouble. Plan exciting stuff together.
My targets: Dave (my Leo coworker who’s basically a walking spotlight) and my cousin Sarah (Leo queen, drama optional but frequent). Planned my approach.
Operation: Let Leo Shine (Work Edition)
Morning meeting. Dave started pitching his obviously flawed marketing idea. My Aries instinct? Jump in, tear it apart (politely… ish), and push my much better plan. Instead, I physically bit my tongue. I nodded. I made “mmhmm” noises. When he finished, I didn’t immediately counter-punch. I said, “Interesting angle, Dave. Really bold vision. How do you see tackling [specific flaw]?” Let him wrestle with it first. He puffed up like a peacock! Didn’t fix the flaw, but man, he was beaming. Actual cooperation happened later. Weird. Felt unnatural as heck not leaping in, but… it kinda worked?
Operation: Direct Communication (Family Drama)
Cousin Sarah called. Ranting (again) about her boss, wanting sympathy (aka agreeing her boss is Satan). Normally, I either zone out or offer some aggressive “tell him off!” advice that escalates things. This time? Blurted out: “Sarah, honestly? This sounds like the same pattern as last month. What are you actually gonna do differently about it?” Silence. Then a grumpy “Ugh, I dunno.” BUT! No meltdown. Later, she texted admitting she needed to actually talk to the boss, not just vent. Horoscope tip: 1, Me avoiding endless pity-party: 1.
Operation: Big Fun Injection
Biggest test. Planned an after-work “thing” with Dave and Sarah. Not coffee. Not just chatting. Needed FIRE SIGN ENERGY. Found one of those weird competitive mini-golf places with loud music and neon lights. Pitched it as a “championship.” Leo competitiveness activated instantly! Both were IN. No low-energy moping. Dave trash-talked hilariously. Sarah channeled her boss-frustration into trying to sink a hole-in-one. Was it chaotic? Absolutely. Was it boring? Not a chance. High energy totally diffused the usual potential friction points. We just yelled and laughed.
What Actually Stuck?
Look, is Venus in Gatorade or whatever? Who knows. But taking the ideas – the practical actions – out for a spin? Yeah, that did something.
- Letting Leo Have the Mic: Feels weirdly counterintuitive as an Aries, but damn, it disarms them. Lessens the “must dominate” tension instantly.
- Bluntness Over Babble: Cutting through the fluff respectfully worked WAY better than I expected with Sarah. Leos seem to appreciate the clarity, even if it’s not what they want to hear.
- Burn Energy Together: This was the winner. Aries and Leo energy needs an outlet. Bottle it up? Explosion. Channel it into something dumb and fun? Suddenly, you’re a team. Even competitive mini-golf counts.
Not saying the stars wrote my day, but acting on those common pieces of advice? Didn’t start any fires (well, not bad ones), and actually smoothed some stuff over. Weird. Maybe there’s a tiny scrap of “something” there after all. Gotta admit, I might try this again next time Leo drama walks into my orbit. Maybe buy more mini-golf tokens.