How did Cancer come to be synonymous with crybabies? I have no doubt, reader, that you have learned about this sign through the lens of its sensitive emotional structure. But it seems that the profound emotional wiring of Cancer has won not the recognition of its own strength, but rather, a disparagingly crafted caricature of moodiness, tears, and the girlification™ of human emotion. Much like Taurus being talked about strictly in relation to food, money, and sleep, Cancer, unlike its other water sign brethren, has been loudly maligned, scorned, and joked about as if to distill this evolutionary and necessary human component down into memes about crying, hurt feelings, Drake, and mommy issues. It is true that weaponized emotion opens the door to passive-aggression, manipulation, and a particular brand of self-possessed lassitude. But then, every sign has its unproductive manifestation, not just Cancer. What is it about Cancer that triggers such a disproportionately spiteful response? Let’s reframe this sign, let’s highlight the strength and fortitude required to withstand the human condition with the open-heart of Cancer, and the brave act of daring to feel in a world that does not feel for us.
In all of my reframings, I find mythology to be a helpful starting point. The myth of Cancer I’d like to share today may have little to do with what you know. In the more popular rendition, Cancer the crab was sent to fight Hercules but ended up crushed to death. As consolation, goddess Hera made a place in the sky for the crab. End of story. But in other tellings, and instrumental in reframing this sign, Cancer was known as Crios, a giant crab that guarded Poseidon’s daughters. In exchange, Poseidon gave Crios immortality. Crios took his duties seriously—the protection, the sharp antennae for any danger. And so, when danger did come, Crios fought valiantly, and was left wounded. But remember, Crios was given immortality, destined to live with the injuries he had sustained, accepting of his wounded state without complaint. So, as a reward for his bravery, Poseidon relieved Crios of his pain, immortalizing him instead in the night’s sky. In this second telling, we get to the heart of why Cancer’s sensitivity is its greatest strength: the automatic ability to protect while enduring pain. Continuing to show up in a world that breaks our bones, rushing first to help others bandage up, while wearing a wound of their own.
Cancer is a cardinal water sign, and in an evolutionary walk down the zodiac, Cancer represents a necessary first—initiating emotion. It is here that all of creation—started by Aries, sustained by Taurus, perceived by Gemini—confronts the heart. Cancer answers the question of belonging, of community. Beyond zodiacal order, Cancer is also where life begins symbolically—the womb, the life-sustaining properties of water from which all else sprouts—from the relational mirroring of Libra to the experiential adventures of Sagittarius. And so the archetype of the Mother begins and ends with Cancer, the sign responsible for primordial nurturing, emotional connection, and the fundamental sense of love and care that allows one to extend fully into their humanity. Now think about how mothers are treated in society, and by extension, women individuals writ large. There is a chronic and institutional maltreatment of the feminine: from the fight to control our bodies, to be able to vote, to be able to hold positions of power, to be able to walk home at night and not fear being followed or assaulted. Even the pathologized and pseudo-scientific ways women have been belittled—from the Hysteria diagnosis of the 1880s, to the work of Freud relegating the complex (and still misunderstood) structure of the clitoris to just “a small penis.” Emotions have long been marred within the framework of what is weak, what is unnecessary, what is unbecoming, what needs to be shoved aside in order to succeed. In Western society, men are taught to rebuke all displays of emotions (the Cancer opposition to enterprising and stoic Capricorn). Think even of our treatment of planet Earth—mother Earth. We take, we pillage, we disregard. yet Earth continues to sustain and support. This profound distortion of what is natural and human has leaked into Astrological takes and communities, with Cancer being the only feminine sign that takes the heat.
Despite this chronic maltreatment, women continue to show up, to make strides, to give birth to the very people who may, later on, become part of the patriarchal machine. In my reframing of Cancer, I want to emphasize that continuing to show up is a fucking superpower in a world that denies the divine feminine a seat at the table, that denies emotion a seat at the table, that denies subtext, disrespects creatives, and mocks emotion. Bravery isn’t winning all the time—it’s losing and continuing to try again. It’s remaining convicted and purposeful in a world that brings you to your knees. Avoiding emotion is easy, folks. Feeling them isn’t. And to be sure, one needn’t be woman to have this superpower. Cancer energy bleeds through any gender, any culture-- but setting the stage with Cancer’s undeniable link to womanhood, and womanhood’s subjugation, demonstrates the power at hand here. And all this gets to the heart of Cancer’s cardinal modality—it’s not just about initiating emotion but continuing to begin again in an environment dead set on killing you. People mock the safe space that Cancer creates, yet surely couldn’t thrive without it—a home, a community, a belonging, a sense that our feelings are valid. Cancer is the calling from deep in the heart that compels action. What life is worth living without that emotional compass? Sensitivity does not demonstrate weakness, but rather, points towards the strength of individuals who rise again, tender-hearted, to face the world.
I also want to look at Cancer’s ruling planet, the Moon, and the deep vestiges of myth that surround it. Specifically, the myth of Egyptian goddess, Isis. She was and still is considered a lunar deity, extolling the virtues of motherhood, protection, and harvest. But one of her primary powers was that of healing, another aspect of the Cancer archetype that bears importance. Isis’ lover, Osiris, was cut up into a million little pieces by his brother Seth. Isis went on not only to heal and make him whole again, but to bear his child nine months later. She was revered for these skills, known as a great magician, and has been said to possess powers that were far stronger than other male deities like Osiris or Re. The moon watches over Earth when the Sun is away, casting a magical haze that gives way to dreams, to sleep, to restoration and healing. Without the reflective nature of the Moon, life is unbalanced, it burns up under the heat of the Sun. The Moon, and by extension, the Cancer archetype, provides a balanced ecosystem. With no emotional, subtextual, or subliminal exercise, the inner life suffers, and so does the outer life. Like Isis and the Moon, the Cancer energy carries with it profound healing, the ability to turn nothing into something, to smooth over what is wrought and wrinkled. In the tale above, despite the odds, the hatred, the embroiled battles—Isis came to represent what it means to possess emotional wit, to circumvent challenges, to wear proudly the scars borne from protection over what is loved, what is needed, what is cared for. Is that not strength? Isis was actually a very obscure goddess but came into prominence because of her abilities. You could say she was reframed—once her gifts were recognized, she was elevated in importance. Cancer deserves the same renaissance. While the sign of Cancer itself is not obscured—it’s gifts and strengths certainly are. Even the literal Moon, cratered from millennia of space debris, continues to rise, to wane, to wax—to be alive in a hostile environment, to take the hits, just like Cancer. The Moon’s presence in the night’s sky, like Cancer, is enduring and resilient. It cares even when we don’t.
Dear reader, I hope this piece has allowed you to see Cancer differently, to see that beyond notions of crying oneself into a stupor or being a needy smotherer, that Cancer offers a profound strength, not found in any other sign. If you have Cancer in your chart, see it not as an invitation to belittle your wonderful emotional wiring or to mindlessly participate in the meme-ing of your character, but to come into respect and admiration of the superpower you possess. The world needs it, even if it does not yet see it.