Reflective Essay About Fate

Fate: "the will or principle or determining cause by which things, in general, are believed to come to be as they are or events to happen as they do," as defined by the Merriam-Webster Dictionary. Many link the concept of fate to positive connotations, especially in regards to the commonly used trope of a destined soul-mate, or how fate is equal and fair, carrying no bias; it's common enough for people to believe in things like fate and destiny. In fact, I was one of those people.

I believed in the idea of fate, that all things in this world were closely controlled variables, that all events were set before the whole universe had even come to existence. I had believed geniuses to be born, that successes and failures were the results of predestination.

Perhaps it was because it was far easier to push all the blame on to an all-encompassing God, to blame him for his 'many faults', as I had then perceived.

Coupled with my fatalistic ideology was my impression in that everyone else, excluding myself, were leading gratifying lives. My egocentrism led me to believe that I was only a victim and the only victim. Everyone I knew seemed to be leading good lives, so I quickly assumed that I was the only one who was having trouble with handling both my problems and myself.

Those two central fundamentals reigned and narrowed my perception until my main emotions were that of guilt and

Like all the others, I believed her to be inherently talented, to have had all the joys and comforts that the world could offer, and truthfully, I was maliciously envious of her. She was beautiful, kind, assertive; I believed God to be unjust for having handed her everything, but still, I was thankful for her companionship and friendship, and resigned myself as her sidekick, an accessory to further accentuate her goodness and a follower of her dream to one day be a successful artist; with that, I personally created the distinction between myself and R. As we grew more intimate, however, I learned that, no, she wasn’t infallible, unerring, and perfect. Her amazing talent in drawing wasn’t something that was born, but developed, something that I had observed in her pain-staking determination to master anatomy. Her beauty would not have lasted without her constant smiles and efforts to keep her face clean of blemishes. Her confidence and assertiveness were not given to her since birth, but a trait that was nurtured through the numerous trials that God gives us. Despite all that she has, she is afraid, of failure, of God, and of herself, all of which I deeply resonated with. She was an inspiration that forced me to acknowledge my persecution complex, and my fear of action, eventually prompting the change in my