Tarot reading, relationships: Brooke Falvey on meeting man of her dreams

I have an announcement to make: My time being pushed on to the dance floor to catch bouquets or dance to Single Ladies will soon be up, writes Brooke Falvey.

In the next six months, I will meet the man I’m going to marry. It seems like a long shot given I’m currently so single that if I win a trip for two, I’m going twice.

Funny, right? I can’t take credit; I saw it on Instagram.

I sometimes wonder if my single status is because I didn’t forward a chain letter back in 1994, or maybe because I’m incredibly awkward any time a guy asks me out.

Either way, according to Tamsin the tarot reader, my time being pushed on to the dance floor to catch bouquets or dance to Single Ladies will soon be up.

Generally speaking, people tend to find solace in psychics and tarot readers when they’re at a crossroads, but I do it each time my mum and I visit a health retreat.

We book separate appointments and then compare readings. My last appointment back in April certainly delivered – at least on the entertainment front.

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‘He made me happy, then he was gone’

While most people leave a reading filled with hope and optimism, or something to ponder, I left muttering, “What the …” after being told my dating life was a desolate wasteland.

OK, she didn’t use those words but she did tell me that rather than look for a “main meal”, I should instead enjoy lots of “entrees”.

That’s right; some people’s relationships are like a lovely long lunch of pasta and salad, glasses of wine and endless gelato, leaving them feeling happy, sated and fulfilled.

Mine is like a sushi train. Sterile. Unromantic. And likely to end in heartburn.

It would have hurt if it wasn’t so comical.

Brisbane News columnist Brooke Falvey has been unlucky in love … until now!

Not to be deterred, I decided a second opinion was needed and based on the recommendation of a friend, sought out Tamsin the tarot reader.

Her place – a couple of demountable huts in the back of Bangalow – was up a dirt driveway that cut through the middle of a field. It felt legit.

When I headed inside there was no crystal ball, just a table for two, a pack of tarot cards, and a chicken.

Yes, you read that right. Halfway through my reading Tamsin’s pet chicken came and sat next to me, clucking.

That was when Tamsin predicted that I would meet my future husband before my next birthday.

This man, she told me, would be older than I am; OK with the fact I am so open and share so much about my life; and we’d be introduced through friends.

I’m not sure if she saw it in the cards, or if the chicken was an omen, but either way I’ll take it because it sure beats another plate of sushi.

Now, I consider you a friend, so who do you have for me to meet?