I was a logical kid when I was five. I believed in science—like solar systems, aquariums, all of it. I knew that sounded somehow funny now, because I literally grew up to be a superstitious teenager. 

People told me that I was too young to be that superstitious. But come on—if we could manifest good luck, then there would be a way to avoid bad luck. 

Not every day could be a good day. Some days are difficult. Some days feel light.

When my family visited a so-called psychic lady, also known as “the best fortune teller in town,” I was told that I should be avoiding floral-pattern clothing because she sensed a vision of me getting injured in a floral dress. I started to notice a pattern when I was in high school. Every time I wore something floral, something bad would happen. I even looked it up on the internet, and a random webpage with sparkling corners said that the way we dress can influence our luck of the day. 

I started avoiding floral patterns on my important days—yearbook photo days, exam days, or parties hosted by cool kids at school. During my mid-term exams, I was so excited to be seated next to my crush since the fifth grade. The written portion took about three hours, and with six subjects, that meant I would be spending at least 18 hours sitting next to him. That idea sounded exciting to me at this stage of puberty, although it was in a stressful exam room. 

But on this first day of the exam, the AC pipe started leaking on his seat. Within minutes, his paper was drenched. The homeroom teacher reassigned him to a new seat. I asked myself why it happened, especially when I was not wearing anything floral.

Wait. 

Maybe colors were the issue. Maybe the color purple was not for me. Some people have unlucky colors in their lives—maybe I was one of them. I tested multiple colors and compared my days. Purple, red, and navy were bad luck. Pink, grey, and black were neutral, and green and blue were good luck. I decided to stick to blue as I was not a big fan of green. I tested it. I got 100% on my geography test three times in a row, wearing the same sky-blue top. 

During the holidays, one of our friends hosted a party, and I showed up in a blue non-floral dress. I knew that my crush would be the DJ for the party, and I wanted to be like that pop song, “DJ got us falling in love.” I did not see him for half the night, and when I finally found him, he was totally wasted. He said “hey” and tried to hug me, but ended up throwing up on my Lucky-Blue-Non-Floral dress. 

As getting puked on by my crush was never on my bingo card for the year, I had to pay attention to more details. Maybe my accessories were cancelling out the luck. Or my shoes were steering me on the path of misfortune. I wanted to put the blame on my boring hairstyle, but I did not want a haircut either, so I started looking for authentic crystal accessories. 

With a glimpse of enlightenment, then, in a moment of clarity, I had an idea. What if I stop thinking about this? Maybe luck had nothing to do with patterns or colors. Maybe the fortune teller lady was just messing with me. And the worst possibility? She could even be a scam. 

For our graduation dinner party, I decided to show up in the most floral dress I could ever find. Very Floral, very purple, and very challenging. That night was wonderful. Everyone loved my dress, and my crush asked me out. We shared our kiss on the dance floor. I even won the best dressed for the night.

And it made all sense.

Good Luck wasn’t real. Bad luck wasn’t real. None of it was real.

I felt splendid, confident, and unstoppable at the same time. It was the best and most wonderful night ever, right up until a 50-pound professional stage light fell right onto my head, giving me a concussion.