Breaking a mirror brings bad luck

Juan: Ay naku, Mia… I’m so stressed. I broke my bathroom mirror this morning. Seven years of bad luck na ’to.

Mia: Seven years? Grabe naman, parang prison sentence! What happened, did you punch it or something?

Juan: Hindi ah! I slipped while cleaning. But you know the belief — once a mirror breaks, the bad luck sticks to you. My lola used to warn me all the time.

Mia: Your lola also told you not to sleep with wet hair ’cause you’ll go crazy, right? And look at you—still sane. Well… mostly.

Juan: Hoy! I’m serious! Right after the mirror broke, my phone started lagging, and the jeepney I rode stalled in the middle of EDSA. Tell me that’s not a sign.

Mia: Okay, let’s break this down scientifically. Your phone lags every day. And jeepneys stalling? That’s practically a national sport. None of that needs a supernatural explanation.

Juan: Still… it feels connected. Mirrors are reflective surfaces. They show your soul—so breaking one messes with your aura.

Mia: That idea came from ancient cultures. People thought mirrors held pieces of your spirit because they didn’t understand optics. But now we know a mirror is basically glass with a metallic coating. No soul storage included.

Juan: Maybe not scientifically, but the bad luck part… it’s too specific. Seven years!

Mia: Actually, the “seven years” came from the ancient Romans. They believed your body renews itself every seven years. But that was long before dermatologists and cell biology. Today we know different body parts renew at different rates, not some magical seven-year reset button.

Juan: Hm. But why do so many people still believe it if it’s not true?

Mia: Because it makes life feel predictable. If something bad happens, you can blame the mirror instead of randomness. Humans hate randomness. You should see how people react when I say life is mostly statistical probability—they get more scared than when they see a ghost!

Juan: But you have to admit, bad luck seems to come in streaks. What if breaking the mirror triggered it?

Mia: Or… hear me out… maybe you were stressed after breaking it, which made you notice every little inconvenience. Psychologists call it “confirmation bias.” You look for signs that support what you already believe.

Juan: So you’re saying it’s all in my head?

Mia: Not all. You really did break a mirror. Your wallet will feel the damage when you replace it—that’s the real bad luck.

Juan: Ha! True. Mirrors aren’t cheap.

Mia: Tell you what. Instead of “seven years of bad luck,” let’s do “seven days of being cautious with slippery floors.” That one actually prevents problems.

Juan: Hmm. I like that. Safety instead of superstition.

Mia: Exactly. And if anything goes wrong this week, I’ll treat you to milk tea so you don’t blame the mirror.

Juan: Deal! But if I win the lottery tomorrow, I’m telling everyone breaking mirrors brings good luck.

Mia: Then I’m breaking every mirror in my house.

Juan: Uy, wag naman! I don’t want you blaming me for seven years of repairing your furniture.

Mia: Fine. But at least now you know—broken mirror or not, life goes on. And the only thing you should worry about is cleaning safely.

Juan: Okay, okay. I feel better. But just to be safe, can I borrow your mirror for a week?

Mia: Absolutely not.