Letting go

GROWING UP, I BELIEVED THAT MY THOUGHTS HAD AN effect on everything, from the role I would get in the school play, to what my future would hold, to how tall I would grow.

This habit of magical thinking has persisted. Some of my superstitions: If I plan a trip, I will be sure to get a modeling or acting job that conflicts. If I dream of someone, I expect to hear from them soon. If I share good news before it’s official, it won’t come to pass. My latest belief is that if I keep my son’s name on my body, on a necklace or a bracelet inscribed with his initials, he will remain healthy.

If there is something, anything, I can do to steer the outcome of events, then I am less vulnerable. I am less afraid. Even as I confess this, I worry about the jinx I am placing on my rituals. Will my tricks no longer work now that I have shared them?

I often struggle to delineate what is my gut instinct and what is my hypervigilant, superstitious mind playing