I used to be obsessed with psychics. Tarot readers, palm readers, crystal balls – you name it, and I paid someone to work their magic. Why was I so taken with knowing my future? I blame it on my fear of abandonment. Whenever I really liked a guy, I was terrified to loose them. The first man I ever loved abandoned me, so why wouldn’t the rest follow in papi’s footsteps? I reasoned.
Eventually, I realized getting a glimpse of my immediate future harmed me more than it helped. After the readings, I would solely focus on what would be and not the present moment, and that is a highly stressful way to live. If I always ran to psychics when my relationships became complicated, I would never let go of control. And let’s face it chicas, we really aren’t in control. So I worked on myself and abandoned my fear of abandonment. The psychics went with it…for the most part.
Like any addict, I occasionally slip up. I have a stack of tarot cards that I read once and a while, and just a few days ago I went to see Norma, an elderly baraja reader my friend recommended. The sole purpose of my visit was to get some clarity. From starting my own website to my deep emotions for Mr. G that weren’t going anywhere, I needed direction. So I sat in front of Norma and waited for her to reveal my future. I watched quietly as she shuffled the deck. I braced myself for the worst and hoped for the best this one last time.