Dear readers,
There's an expression we often hear that I find deeply questionable: "It was fate." It comes up in all kinds of situations. After a failure. After a meeting. After a loss. After a success. It seems to explain everything, justify everything. But does it really tell the truth?
The comfort of fate
I understand the appeal of fate. It's reassuring as a concept. There would be a grand plan, a hidden coherence in the events of our lives. The things that happen — good or bad — would not be due to chance, but to a kind of higher intention. It's a mechanism we also find in repetitive patterns: a belief that protects us but imprisons us.
And especially in difficult moments, this idea soothes. It says: "It's not your fault. It was written. You couldn't have done otherwise."
But this comfort has a price. And that price is our power to act.
Fate, the success version
Let's start with something we notice less, because it's more flattering.
When you succeed at a project, when a situation unfolds exactly as you hoped, when an opportunity arises and you seize it successfully — what do we sometimes say?
"It was meant to be. It was my destiny. I was supposed to succeed at this."
And here, fate makes a rather convenient appearance: it comes to validate the success, give it a cosmic dimension, a higher legitimacy. As if succeeding proved we were "predestined" to do it.
We claim the victory — and at the same time hand it back to fate. Both at once.
Fate, the failure version
And then comes the other side, the more revealing one.
When something doesn't work. When a project falls short, when a relationship shatters, when you don't reach a goal you'd set yourself.
"It was written. I wasn't meant to make it. It was fate."
And here, fate does very different work: it absorbs responsibility. It protects from the pain of analysis. If it was written, no need to wonder what we could have done differently, what we didn't see, where we lacked preparation or courage.
This is where fate becomes what I call a life insurance policy. A cover against the risk of facing our own responsibility.
We are the variable
Here's what I observe, at least in my way of seeing things.
In the equation of your life, there are indeed elements you don't control: the context you were born into, unforeseen events, other people, the economy, your health. These elements exist, and they weigh.
But the main variable in your life is you. Your decisions. Your choices. The way you respond to what comes up. What you do with what you have.
When you succeed:
It's because you made choices, put in effort, took calculated risks, believed in something long enough to stay with it through obstacles. Congratulate yourself. Truly.
When you fail:
It's also your responsibility. Maybe you lacked information, preparation, support, timing. Maybe the project wasn't the right one, or you weren't ready yet. Learn. That's just as valuable.
Fate is not the cause of your life. It is, at best, a word to describe what your life becomes when you live it fully.
The freedom that's a little scary
I'm aware that what I'm saying here isn't comfortable. The idea that you're the main variable — that your results largely depend on you — is dizzying.
Because it implies something heavy to carry: responsibility. And responsibility isn't naturally what we look for when we're suffering from a failure.
But here's what responsibility offers in return: the ability to act differently. If I'm the one who created this situation — even partly — then I'm the one who can create another.
Fate, on the other hand, leaves you passive. A spectator of your own life. Watching for what will "reveal itself". And this passivity is the exact opposite of what happiness studies teach us: that it's active engagement in our relationships and choices that makes us happy.
Responsibility makes you an actor. And that's infinitely more powerful — even if sometimes more uncomfortable.
So, what do we do?
I'm not asking you to ban the word fate from your vocabulary. Nor to deny that there are things in life beyond our control — there obviously are.
What I propose is a different stance toward the events of your life:
When you succeed
Take time to acknowledge what you did. Your efforts, your decisions, your perseverance. Don't give all the credit to fate — you're the one who built it.
When you fail
Resist the urge to say "it was written". Ask yourself honestly: what could I have done differently? What am I learning from this? It's not punishment — it's information.
In both cases
Stay in your place — at the helm of your life. Not to control everything (that's impossible), but to remain the main actor of your story.
Fate is perhaps simply the word we give to the life we've chosen to build — or to the one we let happen by failing to choose.
That's my way of seeing things, in any case. And what I see in my daily work is that the people who move forward the most are often those who have accepted being the main variable of their own equation — with all that implies in terms of freedom and responsibility.
Thérapeute Complémentaire spécialisé en Ayurvéda
Do you want to truly move forward?
In my practice, we work on what holds you back — repetitive patterns, unconscious memories, limiting beliefs. Not to find culprits, but to recover your power to act.
