Being Skeptical is sometimes like killing Santa Claus

I have a colleague at work who is a little susceptible to woo. She visits pyschics, reads her star signs, buys into alternative medicine and doesn't mind a bit of mild conspiracy theory to boot. I think this sort of thing has been inculcated early in her life. She has more than once told me that the women in her family are sensitive to psychic stuff (I'm not sure what exactly) which suggests to me she got it from grandma, mum or aunty.

We get on well and have discussions about this stuff and I always hold up the skeptical end of conversation. I have introduced her to cold reading, regression to the mean and many other ways of explaining the mysterious and miraculous. She takes it pretty well, all the time agreeing to disagree.

Coming back from lunch the other day I got a good look at the "problem" with a skeptical outlook. As I took my seat opposite her, my colleague, looking quite excited by what she was reading on the screen in front of her turned to me and said, "Do you want me to read you your stars? It's the Chinese horoscope!" (this foreign version being somehow more credible). I guess I don't have much of a poker face because as I turned to face her, the expression fell from excited to sombre on her face. "Don't worry" she muttered, "you'll just spoil my fun".

I laughed this off but was a little hurt and disappointed. Does she really think I'm out to spoil her fun?

Thje difficulty I have with this idea is that she is never joking. She takes her horoscope perfectly seriously and pays good money to see psychics. I'm reasonably earnest when I suggest these things are no good, much in the same way that she and others tell me I should stop smoking. I've never felt tempted to tell her she's spoiling my fun.

I'm well aware of the potential for skepticism to be perceived as mere cynicism and I don't prosthelitise my skeptical outlook but if asked a question, I always give my honest answer. This seems like the least you can do.

What I'd like to know is where is the line to be drawn? I feel like I've just revealed there is no Santa Claus. At the same time it must be said that she is forty. Maybe now is the time to learn the truth? Maybe at forty it is too late. Old dog/new tricks, that sort of thing and any truths you don't have under your belt now will probably never be understood. One thing is certain. A late truth is not appreciated. I guess it's like an insult to the last half of your life. To change your mind so late is to admit to a certain amount of waste. I guess that's not easy to do.