On Superstitious

I’m a superstitious person. How superstitious? As much as Stevie Wonder sings.

I don’t mean I have witchcraft or believe in werewolves or anything. No offense if you do.

I mean I believe in small stupid (that’s what they call not my words) things that nobody else believes or a particular small population of people believe in.

I am a huge believer in the “jinx it” phenomenon.

I never tell my friends when I’m going on a date. I mean, I tell them that there will be a date. I’m not stupid thanks to years of watching Criminal Minds. And I will probably send his picture and his name, depending on how much I trust him. Not that it will help much if something did happen, but I figure at least I want him to be arrested. To double the chance of survival, I would ask them, “are you a serial killer?” and always, always get verbal confirmation because otherwise, they would be a serial killer who lies.

But I never tell my friends the details of this guy and what will happen. Because my friends would be like, “tell me more tell me more, like does he have a car?” And I have a close gay friend. I assume everyone has one in this age, right? Well, mine is the worst. I once dated this handsome guy, the type of handsome my friends would look at his picture and say “so what he left you on read, go get him” handsome. While my gay friend would look at him and say, “you kiss him with that teeth, isn’t he white, doesn’t he have a dentist?”

So I kept my mouth shut about most of the details of someone I’m dating, just a simple picture and a name, kind of like what they do first when you get arrested. But more importantly, I’m scared that by sharing the excitement of going on a date not that dating is exciting anymore these days and announcing that I might get laid tonight. Somehow things would happen like I fart during dinner, and one thing leads to another, I will not get laid. Isn’t it better when you tell your friends the next day that you got laid like an Olympic gold medal winner returning to his home country and be greeted with “you bitch.”

The same goes for significant life events like tests and job interviews. I have seen too many TV shows where the characters just sit there saying, “I didn’t get it.” Then his or her friends would gather around saying, “you poor thing.” Sorry, not me, no pity party in this home. I always share the good news after I have some good news to share. It may be a “not jinx it” thing, but I may have read it somewhere that it’s because you take on less pressure without people rooting for you closely and thus, you perform better.

I’m so superstitious that I might not even tell anyone I’m pregnant and hide in the woods for nine months telling everyone I’m off the grid because of a vegan yoga retreat thing. If I have a husband who can’t keep his mouth shut, I might tell him it’s not yours and tell him the truth after the baby is born, “surprise, it has been yours all along.”

I also believe in balance. I believe the good will be good and evil will get its bad luck. It started like that then I realize once you do more goods, the world somehow will reward you. And I don’t just mean a penny found on the road that sort of thing.

More importantly, I believe we all have a luck system in our life. Actually, I always think that the reason I never have any luck with my romantic relationships is that I’m loved too much by my family and friends. I know some people may have it all, but I believe so much in this luck system that I’m willing to trade.

I also believe in other stupid little things, like touching the plane before it took off so that it won’t crash, like listening to the same song before every big thing for good luck, like asking my friends to hit me three times every time I step on a sewage cap (I know, I’m really weird), I keep these little superstitious random things in my life so that I believe my life and everything in it, myself especially, will somehow be ok.

Call it self-correction or anything; this system has worked pretty well so far. When times are bad, I’m actually happy and hopeful because I know things will somehow get better. As you can imagine, the opposite is when things are good I still get super scared because I used up good luck. Maybe I’m just a pessimist, but keeping my expectation to the lowest has saved me lots of tears. Though I still expect, still get disappointed, and I still cry.

It’s a good thing to believe in yourself, and in my case, to believe in small stupid (still not my words) superstitious things.

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