The Rules You Should Know Before Touching a Ouija Board

Let’s begin with the obvious: the Ouija board is, technically, a board game. Aka, a toy. But toys can always be used for other purposes.

Yes. A game. Mass-produced. Marketed. Sold in the same stores as Monopoly and Scrabble. Originally popularized by the Parker Brothers, now owned by Hasbro.

And yet.

No one lights candles and whispers Latin before opening Connect Four.

The Ouija board sits in that deliciously uncomfortable space between parlor trick and portal. Whether you believe it’s an ideomotor effect (tiny unconscious movements) or a hotline to the afterlife, there are rules. Some are official. Some are folklore. Some were gifted to us by cinema as cautionary tales wrapped in jump scares.

Let’s go through them, shall we?

The Actual Game Rules (The Ones Printed on the Box)

Before Hollywood turned it into a gateway drug to possession, the board had very normal instructions:

1. Two or more players.

You can play alone, but the traditional format involves multiple participants lightly resting their fingers on the planchette. The idea is that the movement happens collectively.

(Collectively... Which means if something moves aggressively, you all get to blame each other.)

2. Ask clear, simple questions.

Yes/no works best. “Will I marry a dark stranger with mysterious eyes?” is acceptable. “Explain the metaphysical structure of the astral plane” is not.

3. Keep fingers lightly on the planchette.

The board functions under minimal pressure. If someone is pushing, everyone knows. You will feel it. And then you will judge them.

4. Spell it out.

If the answer isn’t yes or no, the planchette moves letter by letter. Patience is required. Spirits apparently type slower than your grandmother, and often spell badly, too.

5. Properly close the session.

Traditionally, you move the planchette to “Goodbye” before ending. Think of it as hanging up the phone instead of just smashing it against the wall.

And that’s it.

That’s the official version.

Now let’s talk about the rules everyone whispers, but no manufacturer will print.

The Unwritten Rules (The Ones Your Witchy Friend Insists On)

These are not in the box. They’re passed down through campfire lore and TikTok threads and your one friend who owns too many black lace dresses (me... I'm that friend!).

1. Never play in a cemetery.

Is this officially documented? No.

Is it narratively satisfying to imagine you accidentally raising something with unfinished business? Absolutely.

The logic is simple: if you’re calling out to spirits, maybe don’t do it where they’re already conveniently stored.

Using a Ouija board in a cemetery is like shouting “free samples” in a crowded mall. Someone, or something, will answer.

2. Never play alone.

This one is folklore, but it’s persistent. The idea is that you’re more vulnerable solo—psychologically or spiritually, depending on your belief system.

Also, if something weird happens, you’ll want a witness.

3. Don’t ask when you’ll die.

Across spiritual traditions, this question is considered taboo. In horror movies, it’s practically a summoning chant for chaos.

Even if nothing supernatural happens, your anxiety will creep up on you until you forget the night you asked that tricky little question.

4. Don’t let the planchette count down.

There’s a rumor that if the board starts counting backward through numbers, it’s trying to escape or open something.

Is this true? Who knows.

But if that thing starts sliding 10… 9… 8… Perhaps it's time to close the session and put the haunted toy away.

5. Always say goodbye.

I know, I already mentioned it—but this rule gets doubled down in folklore. Ending without “Goodbye” is supposedly like leaving a door cracked open.

And no one wants metaphysical drafts.

The Horror Movie Rules (Because Cinema Is a Harsh Teacher)

Let’s be honest: most of what we “know” about Ouija boards comes from horror films.

And horror films are very clear:

You will regret this.

The Exorcist

In this classic, Regan uses a Ouija board to speak with an entity named Captain Howdy. This innocent communication spirals into full-blown demonic possession.

Rule learned: Not every spirit is your imaginary friend.

Ouija

This film drills in several cinematic commandments:

• Never play alone.
• Never play in a graveyard.
• Always say goodbye.

The characters, of course, break all of these.

Consequences ensue. Faces contort. Lights flicker. Regret flourishes.

Witchboard

Here, the board becomes a conduit for a progressively darker entity.

Lesson: If the spirit seems charming at first, that’s probably branding. Think charismatic cult leaders like Charles Manson--they seem nice, but something is not right in there.

Paranormal Activity

In one infamous scene, the board ignites after a session.

Cinematic rule: If the board bursts into flames, that is not ambiance. That is feedback.

The Rule No One Talks About: Your Own Mind

Here’s where I put on my educated hat for a moment.

There’s something called the ideomotor effect—tiny, unconscious muscular movements that make the planchette glide. It’s the same principle behind pendulums and dowsing rods.

Meaning: sometimes the “spirit” spelling your ex’s name might just be your subconscious.

But here’s the thing.

The subconscious is powerful. It contains fears, desires, and unfinished business. Sitting around a dimly lit board asking big questions? That’s psychological theater. Ritual has power—even if the power comes from within you.

Which means the real rule is this:

Don’t play if you’re not mentally steady.

If you’re grieving, anxious, spiraling, or looking for certainty the universe cannot responsibly provide, maybe don’t outsource your emotional regulation to a piece of cardboard.

If You’re Going to Do It Anyway... (You Are, Aren’t You?)

Fine. Here’s my darkly practical checklist:

1. Don’t play in a cemetery unless you’re prepared to star in your own B-movie zombie reboot.
2. Don’t play alone.
3. Don’t mock whatever answers (mocking never goes well in films).
4. Don’t ask about death dates.
5. Always say goodbye.
6. If the planchette starts moving aggressively, lift your fingers.
7. If something feels wrong, stop.

And perhaps most importantly:

Don’t forget that fear is contagious. One person panics, everyone panics. Then suddenly someone’s crying, someone’s convinced they’re cursed, and someone else is Googling exorcists at 2 a.m.

Which is exhausting.