My fortune teller was right about everything… then she gripped my hand and made a prediction so horrifying it has changed the way I live my life

It was impossible to ignore them. 

Among the stalls selling novelty T-shirts, silk scarves and bargain souvenirs, the bustling Hong Kong market just beyond Wong Tai Sin Temple was lined with white tents.

Inside them, traditional Chinese fortune tellers were waiting, offering everything from palm readings to tarot card divinations. 

At first I was sceptical, but by the time I’d passed my tenth crystal ball, curiosity had got the better of me.

‘Maybe I should get a reading?’ I suggested to my husband, Clint. ‘For a laugh.’ 

We were here for a family holiday along with my daughter, Caja, then 12, and two sons, Jonty and Hendry, both three at the time. 

Soon we’d be heading to Disneyland, so it was now or never if I wanted to know what my future really held – beyond my visit to the happiest place on Earth.

Plus, if they were able to come up with the winning lottery numbers as well, that’d be great.

I picked a booth at random, settling down opposite a witchy-looking woman who explained to me she would read both of my palms.

‘The left is for life before 35 years old,’ she said. ‘And the right is for after.’

I have to admit, her reading of my left palm was pretty accurate. She spoke of major relationships, deaths and career changes. 

‘You’ve moved a lot,’ she said – and I nodded. I’d lived in many different countries.

She made other statements about my history – specific ones – that were spot on.

Tingling with anticipation, I smiled up at my family. The past was done – now it was time for the future predictions.

Whatever she was about to say, I was going to take with a grain of salt. But still – imagine if I was going to be rich? Move to a tropical island? Have more children or a brush with fame?

‘You have an interesting lifeline,’ said the palm reader as I smiled, giddy at the thought. 

But then she said something so horrifying, it floored me. 

‘It stops… soon.’

And that was that. Those three words changed my life forever.

Smile gone, I peered down and watched as she jabbed her finger at the offending line, bluntly pointing out her findings like she hadn’t just told me my days were numbered.

‘You will be sick,’ she told me. ‘Never rich but never poor…’

That hardly mattered when I was about to die anyway, I thought. 

Her parting gift was a doozy.

‘Red is a very unlucky colour for you,’ she said. ‘Never wear it again. Ever.’

My favourite dress was red! Feeling this was a bridge too far, I retaliated: ‘I love my red dress! I thought red was a lucky colour. And what does “soon” mean? When will I die and how?’

I don’t even know if I wanted to know, but curiosity got the better of me as I pressed her for more information, trying desperately to pin down a specific date.

Eventually she told me I’d be a goner ‘just before I was 50’, which meant I had just a few years left.

There was one smidgen of hope, though. 

‘You can change your destiny if you change your lifestyle,’ she smiled as I left. 

Just to rub salt in the wound, my husband got a reading and was told he’ll live a fabulously long life and have a significant windfall. Cashing in my life insurance, no doubt!

This happened a few years ago and I can honestly say I think about it most days. 

I’ve googled ‘short lifelines’. While I was initially relieved to read that they don’t always mean you’ll have a short life, the alternatives of sickness, failures and challenges didn’t exactly put my mind at ease.

It feels like I’m slowly edging towards the nothingness.

Of course, I laugh with friends, telling them about the evil witch in Hong Kong who says I’m going to die soon. Kidding around, I tell my husband he doesn’t have my blessing to move on and find a new wife.

(Actually, that part is not a joke, he doesn’t have my blessing and I will haunt him if he so much as downloads Tinder.)

I tell myself it’s not true. I’m a sceptic, remember. If she could predict the future, why was she working from a tiny booth in a backstreet and not picking the winning lottery numbers, scooping millions? 

But, try as you might, you can’t forget something like that. Once you hear those words, you can’t unhear them, no matter how hard you try.

So now I’m left wondering how it’s going to go down, and just in case, preparing the best I can.

If you had asked me before any of this what I would do if I knew when I was going to die, without hesitation I would be drawing up a bucket list as long as my arm.

Drink rum in Cuba, see gorillas in Tanzania, take a year off work, make memories with my children and rescue all the dogs.

The possibilities are endless.

But faced with the reality, living my last years frivolously has no appeal.

Instead, I started to learn the stock market, watching, reading, waiting and carefully selecting shares for each of the children, hoping that if I wasn’t there in person, I could still help with first cars, weddings or buying a house.

I have read the Barefoot Investor book and started some serious savings plans that I hope will give my amazing husband the time off work he needs to grieve and be with our children when I’m gone.

I have sorted out my life insurance, made sure my superannuation is in order and that all the relevant documents are easy for my family to find. 

But what’s also on my mind are her parting words. ‘You can change your destiny if you change your lifestyle.’

What does that even mean?

In all honesty, that part really annoys me. I’m not an unhealthy or overweight person. I don’t smoke and only drink socially. I feel my options for a complete health overhaul are pretty slim.

Nevertheless, I try to get my 10,000 steps in per day, drink plenty of water and get eight hours of sleep each night.  

At the beginning, I spent a lot of time thinking about the things I would miss. I made sure I was in family photos and not taking them. I make home movies and no longer delete the parts I feel silly about.

But as time has passed, I’ve noticed I spend less time thinking about dying and more time enjoying living. So maybe the fortune teller was on to something after all. 

As for the red dress? It’s still hanging in my wardrobe, but I haven’t dared wear it since.