I keep seeing 22:22.

And every time I do, a small part of me wonders whether someone, somewhere, is trying to tell me something.

Which is funny, because I used to do almost exactly the same thing when I was a little girl.

A friend and I had a little ritual on our way home from school in Brazil.

We would look at the licence plates of passing cars, searching for certain combinations of numbers. One meant someone was thinking about us. Another meant someone liked us. Maybe even loved us.

I don’t remember every combination we used to look for, but I remember how much fun we had finding them. Two girls turning passing cars into little messages about our lives.

I hadn’t thought about those afternoons in years. Until the clock started doing the same thing.

12:12. 14:14. 17:17. 19:19. 22:22. 23:23.

Sometimes I take a screenshot. Other times, I immediately look up what they mean.

Apparently, they’re called angel numbers or mirror hours. Depending on the interpretation, they can represent new beginnings, trust, abundance, or a reminder that you’re moving in the right direction.

And yes, a part of me likes believing there might be something behind them.

I also know there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Our brains are very good at recognizing patterns. Once something catches our attention, we tend to notice it more often. Perhaps I’m looking at the clock a hundred times a day and only remembering the moments when the numbers happen to match.

That makes sense to me.

But here’s what I find interesting.

Knowing why I might be noticing these numbers doesn’t explain why I care so much about what they mean.

And I think that’s the part worth paying attention to.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want the years ahead to look like. There are things I want to explore, things I want to create, and parts of myself I’m still getting to know.

And although I find these possibilities exciting, I would be lying if I said I never wished someone could simply tell me which direction to take.

Because sometimes, when you have several possible futures in front of you, the freedom to choose can feel surprisingly uncomfortable.

You can be grateful for your choices and still feel overwhelmed by them.

Then I glance at the clock.

22:22.

And I find myself looking up its meaning, reading about trust, alignment, and believing that things are unfolding as they should.

I know it’s an interpretation. But there are moments when I really want to believe it.

I don’t expect a number on a clock to make my decisions for me. Still, some days, I would appreciate a little reassurance that I’m not making a mistake.

And that brings me back to those afternoons after school.

When I was a little girl, I wanted to know whether someone liked me.

Now, as a grown woman, I sometimes want to know whether the life I’m imagining is possible.

Maybe that’s why I still look for signs.

The questions have changed, but the curiosity hasn’t.

After all, when I read that 22:22 means trusting the direction of my life, why does that particular message stay with me?

Why does that interpretation feel more comforting than any of the others?

Is it because the universe wanted me to hear it?

Or because some part of me already needed those words?

I don’t know. I may never know.

And I don’t think I need to stop enjoying the mystery.

I’ll probably keep taking screenshots, looking up meanings, and smiling at the occasional 12:12.

But the next time I see one, I might pay a little more attention to the answer I’m hoping to find.

What is the universe trying to tell me?

Or, what am I already trying to tell myself?

—

When you notice a coincidence or a sign, what do you find yourself hoping it means?

Just Julia