Let’s talk about the four main characters of Sex and the City. We love them despite the out-datedness of the show’s plotlines, the lack of diversity in its original cast (followed by the cringe attempts of wokeism that we had to sit through in the first season of And Just Like That…), and of course, the stereotypes and slang that might have been considered fine at the time but today just make you wince and think “wow—we really don’t say that anymore.”

But the reason why the show is so loveable? Because it’s relatable. I’ve watched it countless times. I watch it when I’m happy, I watch it when I’m sad. I may or may not have looked to it for signs during my last breakup, but I’m not alone. To many Millennial women, and the Gen Xers that preceded us, Sex and the City gave us four leading ladies who were meant to embody “every woman”—or at least every woman of 1998 who lived in New York City and either wore a size zero or made a six-figure salary. Perhaps some of this relatability is dead today, as society, the economy, technology, gender roles and every other aspect of modern life has changed since the show’s initial air 25 years ago. But in other ways, the show’s themes endure because some things haven’t changed: the messy realities of trying to find love, the absurdity of dating, the fast pace in which lovers and potential partners can enter and leave our lives, and the idea that friendship is the one non-negotiable in life. This resulted in decades of the show’s cult following, out of which spawned the question that seems to live forever: Are you a Miranda, a Charlotte, a Carrie, or a Samantha?

As I wait for the second season of And Just Like That… to air in spite of myself, I’ve been re-watching again, and re-working this question. Because people have evolved from boxed-in personalities, I want the question to keep up with what we know today, and to hopefully make it way less offensive: What’s your Sex and the City birth chart?

Over the years, Sex and the City and astrology have become constants in my life. They both bring comfort, a sense of order, and the ability to recognize parts of ourselves and those around us we may not otherwise see. Whether it’s for real or just for play, in my friend circles there’s an immediate kinship one feels around identifying as a Leo or a Carrie. Both can belie one’s true sense of being.

So, how does one determine their SATC chart? Unlike your astrological birth chart, where you’d visit cafeastrology.com and harass your parents about the exact time you were born, all you have to do is tap into your inner truth.

Now, many would base each character on their most basic and well-known qualities: Carrie is quirky and witty, Samantha is sexually liberated, Miranda is cynical and Charlotte is romantic and conservative. But, in order for this theory to hit a little closer to home, we need to dig deeper and understand that people aren’t necessarily made up of one solo SATC character, but perhaps there is a birth chart of four that comprises our makeup according to our moon, sun, and ascendant signs.

The sun sign is your most dominant sign. This is the house under which you are born. So, whichever character you feel you relate the most to, that will be your sun sign. Your moon is how you see yourself, and how you show up for yourself. Your rising, or ascendent, is the “mask” that you wear—the way people perceive you.

In case you’re wondering what makes your Sex and the City placements, here’s how I like to break down the main four, with traits that surpass what is obvious at first glance:

The Samantha: Fiercely independent. Cutthroat. Blunt. Supportive. Curious. Sexual (akin to Scorpio) and determined. A real powerhouse who gets what she goes for. Stubborn. Works for pleasure. Would most likely have placements in Scorpio and Taurus.

The Carrie: A dreamer. Flighty. Compassionate. Anxious. Temperamental. Stubborn. A little lazy. Static, fears change and tends to revert toward what is comfortable. Vain. Addictive personality. Expects pleasure. Would most likely have placements in Libra and Taurus.

The Charlotte: Passionate. Momentarily judgmental but the most open-minded. Anxious. Most likely to try or consider trying new things. (I.e.: Considering anal sex and a threesome with past partners, adoption, IVF, converting to Judaism.) Fiercely loyal. A dreamer. Goal-driven and determined. Detail- oriented and a perfectionist. Naive. Highly focused. Expects pleasure but works for it. Charlotte is 100 percent a Gemini.

The Miranda: Goal-driven. Fiercely independent. Cynical. Judgmental. Nurturing. Focused. Awkward. Ambitious. Stubborn. Skeptical. Loving, but coldly so. Hyper realistic. Does not believe in pleasure and finds herself overindulging anxiously (falling in love with Steve, the phone-sex buddy, and the chocolate cake episode). Virgo, Virgo, and more Virgo.

Chopping up the qualities of the girls using the birth-chart method means that you can pick and choose your placements according to what you feel fits your personality (or that of someone you know very well) best. No birth timing necessary, just a quick analysis of how you face life.

Personally, I am a Miranda sun: I’m cynical, unlucky, and clumsy in love, and I live alone with my cat. However, the way I scare men off due to my intensity and my constant need for validation is akin to a Carrie moon. Forget the fact that I’m a writer and have curly hair. With the moon sign representing how you present yourself to the world and those around you, it makes sense that I would be seen as a Carrie.

But then, my rising, which is the cherry on top of my entire personality, is Charlotte: not conservative, per se, but passionate about my beliefs and perhaps even stubborn, yet naive, at times. I’m also spiritual and faithful about little myths and tales, like the idea that everything happens for a reason.

When I first applied this theory to the group chat, I didn’t realize how true it was. But the more I diagnosed my friends, the more I realized how well it works. My friend Kristan, for example, is clearly a Samantha-Miranda-Carrie, and Mark is an obvious Samantha-Carrie cusp with double Carrie placements and a Samantha sun.

While this dissertation is mostly in jest, it feels as though our stories as women need to be comparable to something viewable or categorizable in order for us to actually realize that things are going to be okay. Perhaps this is my cynical Miranda speaking, believing that the media has to show women examples of ourselves before we can feel more liberated and “normal,” making our role in the patriarchy easier to swallow. Maybe this is why femme-presenting people also find themselves drawn to astrology, and to Sex and the City placements as well.

Or perhaps it’s just that human beings find our own personalities completely fascinating and we just want more ways to classify ourselves. But, if any of this resonates with you, keep changing the narrative and be sure to correct people when they assign themselves and others to a single character. And if you find yourself thinking about your own chart and that thought starts off with “I couldn’t help but wonder…, ” then you’ll know what at least one of your placements is.