Do we choose our parents?

My theoretical web of astrology, soul contracts, and intergenerational experiences + FUN VINTAGE PICS :)

When my dad was strict, I figured it was the 20 years of militant training.¹ The Vietnam vet had so many particulars. It annoyed me as a child but I know that many of the traits he drilled into us, like punctuality and taking pride in my work, shaped and molded me for the better.

But, still.

It was exhausting as a 10-year-old. When I ironed his clothes, I thought it was dumb and excessive that I had the added task of ironing a defined crease at the center of his jeans legs. When my handwriting was not up to par in my homework, he’d make me erase and do it again. My sisters and I were on the looking-good-campaign, we always had to show up sharp, especially to church, hair combed, clothing neat, never nail polish. Showing up to life, he was always concerned about what people think, we needed straight As and never embarrass our family unit.

dad in his Navy hat + mom carrying me as a baby + sisters and cousin

It occurred to me recently that maybe the institution of the Navy, with all its order, discipline and structure was the perfect place for my dad to be who he was born as, a Virgo.

Before our nanny² started working with us, I saw horoscope readings as the thing you’d consume in the back of Cosmo mag predicting what flavor man you’re going to date and how to maneuver your difficult boss or needy friend.

I’m still a novice to these astrological wonders, fascinated by how the placement of the cosmos, time, date, and our birth location correlates to our personalities.

I dive deeper into the zodiac realm each time I see evidence. When my son meticulously organizes the napkin drawer, cup cupboard, writing utensils, or his rock collection, my nanny would caption: “Virgo things” and texts me pictures like this.

boy virgo things

I can’t unsee the traits that match his sun sign, which is the astrological sign the sun was traveling through on the day you were born and describes your core essence. Virgos are the natural Marie Kondos³ of the world. They love to organize their spaces, and are typically grounded and willing to help. They also lean toward perfectionism and self-criticism.

My daughter has always been a deeper thinker, intuitive and emotional and I’d go to therapy asking questions about how I could better support her when I’m losing it myself. In my real-time moments of feeling lost as a mom, my nanny would remind me that my daughter is a Cancer and meeting her emotions is a typical trait of this sun sign.

In my constant mission to better understand my kids, I had discovered a synchronicity.

My son is a Virgo. My dad was a Virgo. My daughter is a Cancer. My mom is a Cancer.

Coincidence or something else?

In my last essay I wrote about soul contracts, a spiritual agreement made before birth so that we can learn life lessons and evolve our souls. As part of this contract, there is also a belief that we choose our parents. This idea spans multiple belief systems, including Jewish Kabbalah and Eastern philosophies like Hinduism.

I joke about how I gave birth to my parents. In a way, maybe I did. My nanny posed a possibility:

What if my children chose me so I can raise them the way my parents needed to be raised?

What if my younger dad, who was abused, needed to hear praise more, be held in a home with positive and safe structure, and be reminded that he’s worthy without perfection?

What if my younger mom, who grew up in the rice fields and pushed for her own higher education, needed her emotions to be seen and heard in that process? What if my mom needed a home that allowed her to decompress and retreat (like the Cancer symbol of a crab), and the tools to get herself out of her overthinking spirals?

What if raising my kids in the ways my parents needed to be raised, heals my parents, too?

Studies have shown that intergenerational and ancestral trauma is passed down through epigenetics, which are chemical tags that attach to our DNA, turning specific genes on or off. These molecular marks can be passed to subsequent generations. The good news is that researchers have found negative epigenetic marks can be reversed through various healing modalities, like specialized psychotherapy and nervous system regulation practices (thank you EMDR and forest bathing).

We have the power to rewrite our biological scripts and stop trauma from moving on to further generations.

Even if my cosmos/choosing parents theory is a coincidence, at the very least, it has opened a curiosity channel for me to see my kids, and especially my parents, in a different and more compassionate way.

I think of my parents’ younger selves and what sort of guidance, support and resources they may have needed and didn’t receive. The nits I had about how they raised me are met with more understanding.

Knowing this, how can I currently support my mom, who is alive and well in her early 80s?

It’s as if this knowledge has given me the keys to fix the present, the future and the past. Maybe my kids chose me to help heal their generation, heal myself, and our ancestors. Maybe I chose my parents, and my kids chose me, and we all have some healing to do, some unfinished business to attend to.

It’s a fun thought. It’s a mission I can get behind.

This is my way to rewrite the script.

10-year-old me loved this outfit

1. Also an Asian immigrant tiger dad

2. Anaid, you’re slowly morphing me into my next era as crazy zodiac lady!

3. The master of throwing out all your stuff and keeping things that bring you joy is actually a Libra.