Fate is such a funny thing. Growing up, I watched the older generations explain away almost every hardship with a single word: fate. From the jobs they never pursued, to the people they end up marrying, the dreams they abandoned—it was all chalked up to the cards they had been dealt. Eventually, I started believing in it too. I spent years wondering what kind of hand life had prepared for me, as though my future existed somewhere beyond my control, waiting to reveal itself the right time. Before I understood that what I was experiencing was anxiety, I searched endlessly for answers about my future. I fell down every rabbit hole I could find. Astrologies, birth charts, numerology, even personality tests, anything that promised to tell me the kind of life that awaited me. I wanted to know the hand I had been dealt with, and more importantly, whether there was any way to change it. Looking back, it felt a little like I was a character in a fairy tale trying to break a curse. Whenever a horoscope or chart revealed something I didn’t like, I would spend days obsessing over it, convinced it had somehow sealed my fate. I searched for loopholes, remedies, anything that could rewrite what I believe had already been written. Because if those predictions were true, I couldn’t imagine living with them. It wasn’t until I came home for the summer and decided to attend my church’s youth group, mostly because I had nothing better to do, that something finally clicked. During one sermon, the pastor spoke about the very idea that had quietly ruled my childhood and teenage years. I had grown up hearing adults explain away their life’s disappointments by blaming fate, and somewhere along the way, I had subconsciously accepted that narrative as truth. What my pastor shared, challenged that belief. He explained that, from a biblical perspective, God may know every possible path before us, but we are still given the freedom to choose. He compared it to being offered a hand of cards. The cards may already exist, but which one you play is still your decision, and each choice leads to a different outcome. That idea stayed with me. Perhaps fate isn’t a rigid script that dictates every moment of our lives. Perhaps it is simply the collection of possibilities laid before us, while the life we eventually live is shaped, again and again, by the choices that we make. Even something as significant as choosing the person we spend the rest of our lives with, begins with a decision. He even said that there was no such thing as soulmates—at least not in the way I had always imagined them. Not as two people destined to end up together regardless of what happened. Instead, he explained that God may lead two people into each other’s lives, but whether they stay together is still up to them. We are given the freedom to choose. To say yes or no. To stay or to leave. Destiny may open the door, but ultimately, we’re the ones who decide whether to walk through it. When he put it that way, something finally clicked. It didn’t mean I suddenly stopped worrying or that I simply surrendered my life to chance. But it gave me something I had never considered before: perhaps my future wasn’t something to be uncovered, but something to be built. We only get one life. Why spend it waiting for fate to reveal itself when every decision we make is already shaping the person we’re becoming? That was when I started seeing astrology, and every other attempt to predict the future, for what it really is: guidance, not instruction.
Throughout history, people have always searched for ways to understand what lies ahead. Whether through astrology, oracles or seers, the purpose was rarely to imprison someone within a predetermined future. It was to prepare them. It’s a trope we see in countless fantasy stories: before he hero sets out on a quest, a wise figure warns them of the dangers ahead. The prophecy doesn’t force the outcome. It simply reveals the possibilities, because at the end of the day, the hero still has to decide which path to take. I believe astrology works much the same way. It can point out our natural tendencies, our strengths, our blind spots or even the kinds of challenges we may encounter. Sometimes, it’s remarkably accurate. But it shouldn’t become the voice making our decisions for us. Just because your birth chart suggests that you’re meant for a certain career doesn’t mean you have to spend your life pursuing something that leaves you unfulfilled. Just because someone is astrologically “compatible” with you doesn’t mean they’re the right person to build a life with. And just because a chart warns that a relationship is unlikely to work doesn’t mean it’s doomed from the start. At the end of the day, I firmly believe that we should simply make peace with not knowing. Think about it, we spend so much of our lives trying to predict what comes next that we forget uncertainty is part of being human. The beauty of life has never been in knowing the ending, it’s in our mistakes, in discovering it as we go. After all, we are far too complex to be reduced to a handful of planetary placements or a single zodiac sign. We change, we heal, evolve and grow older. We outgrow the versions of ourselves that our birth charts could never have anticipated because every experience, every heartbreak, every friendship and every difficult decision reshapes us into someone that’s slightly different. Don’t get me wrong, though. I still enjoy reading about astrology. I find it fascinating. Sometimes it describes me with unsettling accuracy and sometimes, it points out the blind spots I hadn’t noticed before. But I’ve learned to see it the way I see a map. A map can tell you where the mountains are, where the rivers flow and which roads might be easier to travel. But it is important to remember, that: it cannot decide where you’re going. The same is true for love.A birth chart might suggest that two people communicate differently or experience love in opposite ways. Sure, it can help us understand each other with a little more patience and a little less judgment. But it shouldn’t become an excuse to stop trying. Nor should it become the reason we walk away from someone we genuinely love. Relationships don’t survive because the stars happened to align. They survive because two imperfect people wake up every day and choose one another. They learn each other’s wounds. They apologize, compromise, have difficult conversations instead of blaming Mercury retrograde or incompatible sun signs, moon signs, Venus signs whenever things become uncomfortable. Astrology is at its most valuable when it teaches us awareness rather than certainty. Not, “This relationship is doomed from the beginning because our charts aren’t aligned.” But rather, “These are the areas where you may need to be more patient. These are the habits worth paying attention to.” Used that way, and it will become a tool for growth instead of a verdict on our future. Because at the end of the day, our lives aren’t written by the stars alone. They’re written by the choices we make every single day. From the people we choose to love, the conversations we choose to have, the mistakes we choose to learn from and the kind of person we choose to become. Don’t let anyone else, tell you otherwise. Sincerely, Cherie. The Whiffler is free today. But if you enjoyed this post, you can tell The Whiffler that their writing is valuable by pledging a future subscription. You won't be charged unless they enable payments.
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