You don't think it's a proper symbol unless you only just made it up a few seconds ago while doodling.
Someone asks you if you believe life has a purpose, or whether it is meaningless, and you say "yes."
You always carry around lots of post-it notes and a pen in case you need to cast a sigil.
People ask you how magic works, and you either
A) don't know and don't care
B) explain in torturous detail, later causing them to seek therapy.
Someone asks you if you believe in the Christian God, and you say:
A) "Only if there's something in it for me"
B) "What day of the week is it?"
C) "Sorry, I rolled a 6 on the dice earlier, I'm a Wiccan today"
D) "Okay, haven't got any other plans for today"
Missionaries find it easy to convert you to their religion, the only trouble is making sure you don't convert to another religion as soon as you're bored.
Other magick workers compare rituals with you. You think they're too serious and stuffy, and they refuse to live in the same neighbourhood as you.
You don't see anything wrong with making up your own god, until it starts telling you what to do.
While in trance, a being glowing with pure white light tells you the secrets to true happiness. You smile and ignore it/laugh at it.
People point out your beliefs are contradictory. You blush.
Your bookcase contains various holy texts that claim all the other texts are wrong.
You don't learn Latin in order to understand tomes of magic, you learn Quantum Physics.
You still don't understand the tomes after learning Quantum Physics, but at least you know lots of big words now.
Your rituals involve the first objects you can spot lying around.
You aspire to schizophrenia. Your friends think you've already reached that state.
Your banishment rituals are usually more fun than the rituals themselves. You keep a copy of a "certain revisionist" book for whenever you need to banish with laughter.
Even eclectic witches think you need to be more discerning.
You buy one of those glittery spell books to see if you can make the spells work. You read it and decide you would much rather write insulting letters to the author that will also give her the nasty cold you've been trying to get rid of for weeks.
When Wiccans tell you the rede, you ask them to define "harm."
If someone you agree with turns out to be obnoxious, you immediately change your beliefs to the opposite of what they were.
Shopping for presents becomes so much easier, as you decide to buy random things, mix them up randomly, and leave them lying around for the first person who finds them.