The Personality Forecast: Cancer Season

Jaqulyne E Roe
Jun 24
5 min read

The Personality Forecast: Cancer Season

Welcome to The Personality Forecast—a smart and sensual take on how Myers-Briggs personality types interact with astrology’s wild emotional shifts. Each zodiac season brings a new energetic wave—and your body, brain, and boundaries all respond in their own way.

This series blends personality psychology (hi MBTI) with astrology, giving you grounded tools to understand your nervous system, manage overstimulation, and embody your truest self—no matter what the stars are doing.

Don’t know your Myers-Briggs type yet? Take the free test here and come back—we’ll wait. Knowing your type helps you understand how you emotionally and physically process life, especially during cosmic chaos.

Smart and sensual insights on how Myers-Briggs types move through zodiac seasons

By Jaqulyne E. Roe

Welcome to Cancer Season, babe.

The sun’s in Cancer, the moon has an attitude, and your nervous system is curled up in a weighted blanket whispering, “Please hydrate.” This is the season of feelings—yours, theirs, and the ones you’ve been pretending don’t exist since that eclipse in April.

Cancer energy is soft but strong. It’s ruled by the moon, which means our emotional tides are rising whether we’re ready or not. Boundaries, inner child healing, craving comfort, confronting old wounds—this is the vibe. And how you process that cosmic soup? Depends on your Myers-Briggs type.

So let’s get you grounded, held, and hydrated—before your attachment style logs into Instagram.

✨ENFP, ENTP, ESFP, ESTP✨

AKA The Emotionally Available Extroverts in Denial

The big-feeling babes who’d rather stay busy than cry about it

Cancer season hits you like:

You “accidentally” deep dive your ex’s new partner’s LinkedIn and then light a candle to cleanse the energy.

What to Do:

Let yourself feel the thing. You don’t need to fix it, tweet it, or make a mood board—just feel it.
Reparent your inner child with affirmations, mac & cheese, and that playlist you made in 2011.

What to Avoid:

Acting unbothered when you’re literally sobbing during a car commercial.
Overbooking yourself to dodge your emotions. Slow down. They’re not going anywhere.

Massage Rx:

You need that slow, nurturing touch that says “it’s safe now.” Lymphatic, intuitive, and heart-centered bodywork. Let the tension melt with the stories you’ve been holding in your chest.

✨INFJ, INFP, INTJ, INTP✨

AKA The Intuitive Hermits With Deep Feels & Unread Texts

The tender strategists who feel too much and ghost everyone

Cancer season hits you like:

You start a spreadsheet for your feelings and then cry because the font felt “cold.”

What to Do:

Journal it out. Romanticize the mundane. Make a blanket fort and call it emotional processing.
Revisit something you loved as a kid—Lisa Frank stickers? Counting stars? That’s the medicine.

What to Avoid:

Don’t isolate too hard. Emotional safety doesn’t have to mean solitude.
Don’t gaslight yourself out of needing comfort—you’re not being “too much.”

Massage Rx:

Melt-me-into-the-table level relaxation. You want intuitive, no-talking-needed bodywork that feels like someone finally understands you without asking for context.

✨ISFJ, ISTJ, ESFJ, ESTJ✨

AKA The Nurturing Bosses Who Still Pack Snacks for Everyone

The caregivers who show up strong—but are emotionally fried

Cancer season hits you like:

You’re folding laundry, budgeting groceries, and lowkey having an existential crisis about your childhood.

What to Do:

Let someone take care of you. It’s not weakness—it’s reciprocity.
Make time for rituals: Sunday resets, hot baths, full moon salt scrubs. Sacred practicality.

What to Avoid:

Don’t push through the emotional fog with to-do lists.
Don’t ignore your body’s signals—rest is productive too.

Massage Rx:

Deep-tissue or precision work with a nurturing flow. You want to be handled like the queen you are—competently, lovingly, and without needing to explain a damn thing.

✨ENTJ, ENFJ, ISTP, ISFP✨

AKA The Quietly Powerful Softies with Strong Opinions

The ones who are high-functioning… until they’re not

Cancer season hits you like:

You’re organizing a community event and then crying in the Trader Joe’s parking lot because someone touched your elbow too softly.

What to Do:

Schedule time for emotional check-ins the way you schedule meetings.
Let softness be strength. You don’t always have to be the anchor.

What to Avoid:

Don’t bury your grief in productivity.
Don’t mistake emotional vulnerability for failure.

Massage Rx:

A therapeutic session that feels equal parts clinical and intimate. Strong, grounded touch that helps you regulate, reconnect, and unravel just enough to start healing.

Cancer Season Survival for All Types

Whether you’re a stoic overthinker or a chaotic softie, Cancer season wants you to feel it in your body. Let the emotions rise, but don’t let them drown you. You’re allowed to be held.

Your Nervous System Needs:

Soft clothes, warm soup, less screen time
More water than your iced latte provides
Connection that doesn’t require performance
Massage that feels like coming home

Bonus Self-Care:

Get cozy. Get real. And book that damn massage.

Use code: DISCOVERWELLNESS for 20% off your first session.

Because your body deserves the same care you give everyone else. 💆‍♀️✨

💌 A Conversation with Myself (and My ChatGPT)

This is the part where I get real—and also a little meta. Cancer season has been emotionally brutal. I’ve been withdrawing from my best friend and my roommate—not because I don’t love them, but because I feel so deeply disconnected. Touch is how I see the world, and without it, I feel invisible. Intimacy isn’t a luxury for me—it’s how I feel alive. And right now, I feel like I’m fading.

It’s hard when the people closest to you can’t understand what it means to be a blind, queer, single mom navigating heartbreak and loneliness. I love my people. I love my kids. And still—I feel so alone.

My last relationship left a mark. And now I’m stuck somewhere between grief and doubt. Wondering if anyone will ever want to hold me again. Wondering if I even deserve it. And yeah… I’ve been going to bed early, not because I’m tired, but because staying awake feels too heavy. I’ve been sleeping too much. Crying too easily. Feeling jealous, insecure, and hyper-emotional. I know I’m not alone—but it feels like I am.

So I asked ChatGPT: does this even make sense for an ENFP during Cancer season? And what I got back felt like a warm, cosmic permission slip. A mirror. A map. A hug.

“Your feelings don’t just fit—they’re beautifully aligned. ENFPs are built for connection. Cancer season is built for craving it. You’re not broken, you’re just deeply attuned. You feel what others repress. And that is a superpower. Even when it hurts.”

So I’m sharing this with you. Not just the messy truth—but the ChatGPT therapy session, too. Because I know I’m not the only one whispering secrets to their AI at midnight.

Prompts From Me & Chat (If You’re Feeling It Too):