From the time I was little, my mom raised me to be a princess. she taught me etiquette, signed me up for intensive English tutors, and put me in gymnastics. By the time I hit middle school, I had fallen head over heels for competitive ballroom dancing. It wasn't just a hobby; it was part of who I was. Even on days when I felt under the weather and would try to say, "Mom, I can’t go to school, my throat hurts," she had a standard reply: "Fine, then you’re too sick for dance practice tonight." I’d make a miraculous recovery every single time because missing a session was out of the question.
In high school, things weren't exactly easy with my peers. The other kids didn't get my obsession. I couldn't understand how they could spend every evening just hanging out in parking lots, drinking cheap beer and wasting time. I moved in a completely different circle with entirely different ambitions.
After graduation, I enrolled in a specialized sports college with plans to become a professional dance instructor. But life took a sharp turn. Through a friend, I landed a job at a local bar. Suddenly, I was juggling late-night bartending shifts with my studies and training. That’s where I met a crowd of guys who had been raised by the streets. I don’t know what came over me, but my priorities shifted overnight. I walked away from dancing—something I’d poured ten years of my life into—and started blowing off my classes. It wasn't long before I was on the verge of being expelled and even had a run-in with the police for disorderly conduct. I eventually managed to get my degree, but it was a massive struggle. On the flip side, I’d been to just about every nightclub in the city and never missed a party.
***
During that chaotic phase of my life, my mom’s best friend called her. She was venting about her non-existent dating life and asked my mom to go with her to see a psychic—just for moral support. My mom agreed, and while they were there, she decided to get a reading for herself.
She was incredibly worried about me at the time. She showed the psychic my photo and asked what she could see. The woman’s words were hauntingly specific:
"This girl was a serious athlete. I see a knee injury." (I actually had a chronic injury from a fall during a competition that still flared up.) "She’s fallen in with a bad crowd; you need to get her away from them. She will have two marriages: the first will be a failure, the second will be her happily ever after."
No matter how hard my mom tried to set me straight or explain that I was running with the wrong people, I wouldn't listen. I was drawn to that bar crowd like a magnet. At twenty-two, I dropped the "big news" on her: I was marrying Mark, one of the guys from that scene. Everyone tried to talk me out of it—my mom, my bridesmaids, my cousins. They begged me to think twice, telling me he wasn't the kind of man to build a life with. But I thought I knew better than everyone else. We had the whole wedding—the white dress, the country club reception, the toasts. I won’t go into the gritty details of that first marriage, but I’ll say this: they were right to warn me. We lasted two years before we filed for divorce.
***
While the marriage was still falling apart, I stopped by a friend's place to vent and have a good cry. She told me about a psychic named Lily who did readings over the phone. The setup was simple: you call her, give your name and age, and ask your questions. Then, she sets a date and time to call you back with the answers. After the reading, you were supposed to Venmo her fifty dollars. If you weren't satisfied with what she said, you didn't have to pay. I was in such a dark place that I called her immediately. I asked the standard stuff: What’s going to happen to my family? Will I ever have kids? What does my future look like? She took it all in and gave me a date for our follow-up.
When the day came, Lily called. Here is what she told me:
"I see a major shift in your life in about a year to eighteen months. There’s a car—I see you in the driver’s seat. You’ll have two children, a boy and a girl, but that’s further down the road, not yet."
I thanked her and sent the payment as promised, though to be honest, I didn't believe a word of it. A car? Me behind the wheel? I was broke and drowning in debt. I couldn't imagine how my life would ever change that much.
***
In May of 2014, I finally filed the divorce papers. A day later, I went out to a club to celebrate with the same friend who had recommended the psychic. I told her right then and there that I wasn't looking to meet anyone. In fact, I made a vow: if any man approached me, especially if his name was Mark, I was going to tell him exactly where to shove it.
We were sitting there at a table when a song came on that we loved, so we headed to the dance floor. A guy approached me, and we started a standard, easygoing conversation. Then he introduced himself. His name was Mark. I nearly fainted.
As it turned out, this Mark was in the Army, out celebrating Veterans Day with his buddies. When he found out I was celebrating a divorce, he didn't even blink. He told me he’d been married before too and had gone through the exact same thing. By 4:00 AM, he boldly announced that I was going to be his wife. He even wanted to go buy me an engagement ring right then, but obviously, every jewelry store in the city was closed. We had a wild, wonderful night. I didn’t take him seriously, but we exchanged numbers anyway. A week later, he finished his service contract and headed back to Seattle. He told me he’d be back for me soon, but I took it with a grain of salt.
***
If you think Prince Charming only exists in fairy tales, think again. Mark showed up two weeks later—not on a white horse, but in a white SUV—and whisked me away into a dream. We went on a long vacation to the coast, and on New Year’s Eve, he proposed. We recently celebrated our first wedding anniversary. I wish for everyone to find that person who makes them feel secure, someone who makes the future look bright instead of terrifying.
As for the predictions? My mom’s friend’s psychic was right: I’m the daughter she saw, and I’ve been married twice. The second one truly is the charm. And as for Lily's prediction about the car? I still haven't actually gotten my driver's license, but when Mark first came to pick me up, he was driving an imported car with the steering wheel on the right side. Since I was in the passenger seat on the left, I was technically sitting in what is usually the driver’s seat. I’m still holding out hope that the rest of her predictions come true, too.
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