My Love Life Sucked So I Went to a Latina Psychic

by Jeanine
latina psychic

It’s a known fact: I’m going on 10 whole years of singledom. That’s 10 years of dates gone wrong, 10 years of self-reflection and learning to love myself, and 10 years of not understanding what the hell men want. 

This year I told myself that somehow, someway things will be different. It will be the year of new beginnings, therefore I will be in an amazing relationship with a wonderful man delivered to me by God himself. This will be my reality even if it kills me. I mean, obviously I’m hoping to live. That would defeat the purpose of summoning a man. But, you get my point. 

To manifest this man, I’m using the power of positive thinking and visualization. That’s what my spiritual advisor, Karen, always said I should do. “Jeanine, ask the universe for what you want and you will get it,” she counseled. So one evening while taking a shower by candlelight I decided to try. I was relaxed and the mood just seemed right.  

“Okay, Universe, I know the world is literally on your shoulders but can you somehow bring me a nice loving man? Please? Oh, and I wouldn’t mind if you help me win the lotto too. Just one time. Thanks!” 

Then it dawned on me: why not see a psychic? I grew up in a Latinx household, which means I’ve been surrounded by saints, natural get-well remedies, and of course, my abuela’s good luck and money potions. These potions consisted of strong smelling herbs, holy water, colorful soaps and oils. Bring any of these home and your place will smell like a botanica for weeks on end. 

Along with prayers, my family has always sought guidance from traditional a Latina psychic as well as tarot readers, so it came as no surprise when my father and I also learned tarot. The thing is I couldn’t read my own cards. Just like a doctor can’t operate on himself, I can’t tap into my own future. Going to a Latina psychic seemed like the most natural next step. 

I walked in and felt like I would be spiritually cleansed. I was surrounded by crystals, tarot cards and candles. She took me to a small room where quiet meditation music played. I sat down and she asked me to pick out some cards before proceeding to read the entire deck. 

“This year is a new beginning,” she started. “Last year was a year of endings and unexpected things.” Made sense. I had three unexpected surgeries. 

“You’ll will get a better paying job or move away,” I was amazed. I am looking for both a new job and new state to relocate to. I also loved that she said I would launch new creative ventures. Still, she was being vague. It was time to ask her about much more specific things. Like most psychics, I could ask her any question. Don’t worry, she wouldn’t tell me anything horrible like when and where I was going to die. They don’t divulge such morbid things. What’s important is to let go of all fear. So I did and asked the big question,“What about my love life?” 

“It’s on the back burner as usual, Jeanine. You don’t go out to meet people. How do you expect to find someone?”  

I was appalled. This lady acted like she really knew me, as if she lived with me or had been peeking inside my bedroom window. It didn’t matter that I’d been coming to her to get my cards read for the last two years. We weren’t friends! 

I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell her she was wrong. But let’s face it, she’s a psychic. Of course she was right! I have to allow myself to be more open and actually have a social life.  I am consciously working on this. My upset stemmed from my psychic reconfirming what I already knew. 

I left the reading realizing that I have to listen to my own gut. I already know the answers to my questions. I am in charge of my love life and my fate lies in my hands. If I want to see action, I must take action. Next time I’ll save myself the $40 I spent on my Latina psychic and use it to buy myself something cute for my future date night – outside of the house.  

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