Maybe It’s a Sign. Maybe It’s Just Life.

I often get confused when it comes to signs, intuition, and serendipity.

How do you actually know?

How do you know if something is truly a sign, or if it’s just a coincidence that we’re trying to give meaning to because we want it to mean something?

And how do you even use intuition effectively?

Because here’s the thing: ever since I was younger, I’ve always felt that when I meet a guy, I somehow know pretty early on whether there is potential or not.

Not necessarily whether he’s the one, but whether there is something there worth exploring.

I could meet someone and almost immediately feel, Nope. This isn’t going anywhere.

Or I could meet someone and think, Hmm. There might be something here.

And more often than not, I was right.

But is that intuition?

Or is it simply experience? Pattern recognition? Knowing myself well enough to recognize what I want—and what I absolutely don’t?

And maybe this is something that changes as we grow older.

Because perhaps the way we interpret intuition, signs, and serendipity depends on our level of maturity, where we are in life, and what we’ve already experienced.

The same thing can happen to us at different stages of our lives, and we may understand it completely differently.

I think I’m realizing that now.

And I’ve also realized that I need to be careful with how I interpret—or even send—signals.

My friends have told me more than once that I have a certain charm and sexual appeal, and that I can be too nicesometimes. 😆

Apparently, what I think is just being warm, friendly, playful, or genuinely interested in someone can sometimes be interpreted as flirting.

And that made me think.

Maybe there are moments when I’m not intentionally sending a romantic signal, but someone else is receiving one.

I don’t ever want to unintentionally confuse someone, give them false hope, or break someone’s heart simply because I wasn’t aware of how I was being perceived.

Because intentions matter, but so does impact.

And maybe intuition isn’t just about asking, “What am I feeling?”

It’s also about being aware of what we might be making someone else feel.

The Flowers

Years ago, there was this guy, and I remember praying to God about him.

I wanted to know how he felt about me and whether I should give him a chance.

So I asked for a sign.

I said something like:

Okay, God, if I should give him a shot, let him send me flowers on my birthday.

It felt like an almost impossible sign.

He lived overseas. He was half-Filipino but wasn’t raised here and rarely visited the Philippines. And I vividly remembered a conversation where he told me he wasn’t the type of guy who sent flowers.

So my birthday came.

Nothing.

Hours passed.

Still nothing.

Almost 24 hours after my birthday, I thought:

Okay. I guess that’s my answer.

Then my dad knocked on my door.

He told me I had a package that I needed to pick up.

And lo and behold…

It was a bouquet.

Flowers.

From him.

I was like…

What the actual…? 😆

Because seriously, what were the chances?

I had asked for flowers.

From a guy who lived overseas.

A guy who rarely came to the Philippines.

A guy who had literally told me he wasn’t the type to send flowers.

And somehow, almost 24 hours after my birthday, a bouquet showed up at my door.

At the time, it felt like the most obvious sign in the world.

But here’s the funny part:

I didn’t actually like the guy.

At least not in the way I thought I was supposed to.

And eventually, the relationship ended badly.

So what was the sign supposed to mean?

Was it really God telling me, Give him a chance?

Because if so… well, that didn't exactly turn out to be the best interpretation. 😂

Maybe the mistake was assuming that a sign automatically tells us the outcome.

Maybe the flowers were never saying, This is the person.

Maybe they were simply part of the story.

And perhaps that’s the first lesson I learned: a sign can be real without necessarily meaning what we think it means.

The Song

Then there was another one.

When I was younger, I grew up with beautiful R&B and romantic songs. I was also part of that generation of slambooks and diaries where we wrote down our dreams—the dream guy, dream wedding, dream love story, all of it.

We were basically raised on romantic music videos and grand gestures.

I recently even saw a meme video of a bunch of cool dudes talking about how women of our generation used to apologize.

And it was painfully accurate.

Our version of saying sorry was basically a full-on music video.

Standing in the rain.

Singing Boyz II Men's On Bended Knee.

Actually on bended knees. 😆

I laughed because… yep.

That was us.

We grew up believing romance was supposed to be dramatic.

Someone had to run through the rain.

Someone had to sing.

Someone had to get down on their knees.

Preferably all at the same time. 😂

And somewhere in all of that, I had this very specific little-girl dream.

I wanted my engagement to involve being serenaded with Joe’s I Wanna Know.

I don’t even know why that was the song.

I just loved it.

Eventually, I grew up and completely forgot about that little dream.

Until years later, I met a guy overseas.

He was handsome, and then one day, I heard him singing I Wanna Know.

And suddenly…

I remembered.

Not just the song.

But that little girl.

The one who had once imagined what love would look and sound like.

I remember thinking:

Wait… what?

Again, I wondered:

Was that a sign?

Or was it just a coincidence that happened to unlock a very specific memory?

The interesting thing is that this relationship became such a colorful phase of my life.

It was an experience filled with stories, emotions, laughter, memories, and lessons.

And even if it wasn't meant to last forever, it was still a beautiful chapter.

Which made me think about the flowers all over again.

Two moments.

Two very specific “signs.”

Two completely different outcomes.

And maybe that’s the point.

Maybe We Understand Signs Differently as We Grow

Maybe the way we interpret signs changes as we mature.

When we’re younger, we might see a coincidence and think:

This must mean something.

Then life happens.

We fall in love.

We get hurt.

We make mistakes.

We learn.

We meet more people.

We understand ourselves better.

And eventually, we start seeing the same kinds of experiences through a different lens.

Maybe what once felt like fate eventually looks like serendipity.

Maybe what we once thought was intuition was partly attraction.

Maybe what we thought was a sign was simply an experience that needed to happen for us to learn something.

Or maybe it really was a sign—but we just misunderstood what it was pointing toward.

Because perhaps signs don't always tell us:

“This is your person.”

Maybe sometimes they simply say:

“Pay attention.”

Pay attention to what you feel.

Pay attention to what you're learning.

Pay attention to what the experience is bringing out in you.

Pay attention to the parts of yourself you might have forgotten.

And perhaps that’s why I’m becoming more careful about romantic signals too.

Because just as I can misinterpret a coincidence, someone else can misinterpret my kindness.

I can be warm.

I can be playful.

I can be genuinely interested in someone's story.

I can enjoy someone's company.

And none of those things necessarily mean I’m romantically interested.

But if I know that my personality can sometimes be interpreted as flirting, then I also have a responsibility to be clearer.

I don't want someone to fall for a version of me that I never intended to offer.

I don't want my kindness to become someone else's confusion.

And I certainly don't want to unintentionally break someone's heart.

Maybe maturity is partly learning that our intentions aren't the only thing that matters.

We also have to be conscious of the signals we send and the stories other people might be creating around them.

So… Do I Believe in Signs?

Honestly?

Maybe.

Do I believe every coincidence is a message?

Definitely not.

Do I believe intuition is always right?

Not necessarily.

But I do believe there is something to that quiet feeling we sometimes get when we meet someone.

That immediate yes.

Or that very clear no.

And maybe intuition gets better—not because we're magically more gifted as we get older, but because we become more familiar with ourselves.

We recognize patterns.

We understand our boundaries.

We know what healthy feels like.

We know what doesn't.

We become better at distinguishing chemistry from compatibility, attraction from connection, and excitement from something that can actually last.

And perhaps signs work the same way.

The more we experience life, the more nuanced our interpretation becomes.

A bouquet is still a bouquet.

A song is still a song.

A coincidence is still a coincidence.

But the meaning we give those things can evolve.

The flowers didn't lead to a great relationship.

The song didn't necessarily lead to forever.

But both experiences were still meaningful.

One taught me that getting the sign you asked for doesn't necessarily mean you got the answer you wanted.

The other reminded me that some of our childhood dreams can unexpectedly come alive in the most beautiful, random ways.

And both became part of my story.

So maybe the question isn't always:

“Is this a sign?”

Maybe the better questions are:

What am I feeling?

What is this experience teaching me?

Am I seeing what is actually happening—or what I want to happen?

And what does my intuition tell me when I take away all the excitement, chemistry, and fantasy?

Maybe signs don't always point to forever.

Sometimes they point to a chapter.

Sometimes they point to a lesson.

Sometimes they point to a beautiful memory.

And sometimes…

they may simply be flowers arriving almost 24 hours after your birthday. 😆

Maybe that's the mystery of it all.

We don't always get to know what something means while we're living it.

Sometimes, we only understand the meaning much later—when we've grown enough to look back and see the experience differently.

Maybe intuition, signs, and serendipity aren't fixed things.

Maybe we change, and therefore the way we read them changes too.

And perhaps that's the most beautiful part.

Life doesn't always give us signs to tell us where we're going.

Sometimes, it gives us just enough of a nudge to help us understand where we've been—and who we're becoming.