Here's what your beliefs about fate reveal about you
The surprising case for letting fate take the wheel (sometimes)
The story goes that when you’re born, a golden thread is created, spun from fibres on an enchanted wheel. This thread represents your future, punctuated with all the major life events you’re yet to experience.
You’ll live your life according to the destiny woven into this thread, like following a recipe you didn’t even know existed, until one day – snip, snip – your thread is cut, your time is up, your life has ended.
You might recognise this as the myth of The Fates (or Moirai), a trio of beings from Greek mythology who shaped and allotted our destinies. They might be my favourite mythical characters of all time, so let me introduce them. Clotho, the spinner; Lachesis, the measurer; and Atropos, the one who makes the final cut.
This idea of women weaving the threads of fate isn’t unique to Greek mythology. In Norse myth, the Norns – Urd (the past), Verdandi (the present), and Skuld (the future) – shape destiny at the base of Yggdrasil, the World Tree. Similarly, in Baltic mythology, the Deivės Valdytojos sisters are believed to spin the threads of human life, sometimes making clothes from them.
I’ve long been fascinated by The Fates and how they’ve been depicted in art and literature over millennia. Sometimes they’re young, angelic-looking maidens, other times demonic crones.
My favourite might be Francisco Goya’s painting called Atropos (see below), which I finally got to see for myself at the Museo del Prado in Madrid earlier this year. It’s an eerie painting. Even more gloriously gloomy and grotesque than I’d expected. Made all the more unsettling by its placement in the same room at the Prado as Goya’s 14 other dark paintings, like Saturn Devouring His Son. It’s safe to say the vibe in there was ominous. The air thick with foreboding.
Beyond the art, the myths, I’ve often wondered: Is there any truth to their story? Not that three women are literally spinning our destinies in maternity wards across the world, but what about the idea that our lives are predestined? That our birth is behind us, our death ahead, and every inch of path along the way is already laid, every step determined.
The short answer is, we’ll never know for sure. So, the question that’s much more interesting to me is: How does our belief in fate – or lack thereof – affect the way we live our lives and our sense of control over them?
First, a couple of quick definitions. Fate is the idea that something or someone external (be it gods, the universe, the Moirai or destiny itself) has control over our lives and that some or all elements are planned. Fatalism is this idea wrapped in a bigger belief. That because fate or destiny has ultimate control, our actions have little influence on what happens because, well, everything is predetermined anyway, so why bother?
To understand how a fatalist mindset influences our behaviour, we need to talk about locus of control, a concept developed by psychologist Julian Rotter. Your locus of control refers to your belief about what influences you have over your life.
An internal locus of control means you believe your actions directly affect what happens in your life. The power is within you, so to speak.
An external locus of control means the power is outside of you. You believe that outside forces – fate, luck, or a higher power – are responsible for what happens instead.
Research generally shows that an internal locus of control is linked to better mental health and well-being. The thinking being that people who believe they can influence their future are more likely to take responsibility for their problems, seek solutions, and take better care of themselves and their environment.
Conversely, an external locus of control is often associated with passivity, lower morale, and a greater susceptibility to stress and illness.
So, where does belief in fate fit into all this?
At first glance, it might seem like embracing fate is a shortcut to passivity and helplessness. It’s an example of an external view of control, right? But the more I looked into this, the more I found it’s not so simple.
Psychologist Julian Rotter, who introduced the concept of locus of control, emphasised that it’s not a binary choice but more of a spectrum. Most of us fall somewhere in the middle and may shift depending on the context. This applies to our beliefs about fate, too.
I find comfort in this because I definitely live on that spectrum rather than on one extreme or the other. For the most part, I believe I have control. But sometimes, I feel like a little Scalextric car, whizzing around the same track, destined to follow the same route no matter how hard I try. And when I do veer off course, I’m placed right back on it.
This might sound a bit defeatist, like I’m resigned to fate. But sometimes I’m grateful for it. Take past relationships that ended painfully. At the time, it felt like the world was ending. But looking back, I see them as events that unfolded to keep me safe and happy. More than once, I’ve looked up at the stars (my only form of religion) and said: “Thank you for keeping me safe.”
It turns out this complex relationship with fate and control isn’t just a personal quirk. Research shows that many of us – perhaps as many as 85% – hold a mix of beliefs. We combine the idea that we have control over our choices with a belief in fate, especially when it comes to significant life events. Often, this belief is applied retrospectively – like when I look back at a breakup and think, “I dodged a bullet,” even though it felt like I’d taken one to the heart at the time.
Interestingly, believing in fate in this nuanced way isn’t just common; it might actually be good for us. Research suggests that a moderate belief in fate can be psychologically beneficial. There are various reasons why this might be the case, but it seems to offer a framework for understanding the uncontrollable aspects of life – like where we’re born, our genetics, or the inevitability of aging.
A study published in the Journal of Positive Psychology suggested that people who integrate a belief in fate with personal agency often report higher levels of well-being. They are more likely to say things like, “It wasn’t meant to be,” while still taking active steps to shape their future.
So maybe the Scalextric analogy isn’t quite right; it’s far too restrictive. Instead, I’ve been thinking of it like bowling with the inflatable bumpers up. You’re still throwing the ball and aiming as best you can. You might hit nothing, or you might get a strike, but there’s a guiding force that helps nudge things along. You have control, but you’re not entirely steering your fate alone.
What does this all mean for us? Well, the debate between fate and free will has been raging for centuries, and I’m not going to solve it here with talk of racing cars and bowling balls.
But maybe the point isn’t about choosing one over the other. It’s about finding a balance that allows us to acknowledge the things we can’t control while still taking responsibility for what we can.
Personally, I still believe that leaning too far toward the external end of the control spectrum – relinquishing responsibility and fully believing in fate, a god, or any external force to take the wheel – isn’t the best approach for most of us.
As with many things, I suspect the answer lies in finding balance. Adopting a “both things can be true” mindset might feel tricky at first because it goes against our instincts to think in black-and-white terms. But a little belief in fate – whatever form that takes for you – can actually be a good thing. It gives us a way to make peace with uncertainty and reminds us that not everything is ours to control.
So the next time you catch yourself thinking, “It wasn’t meant to be,” or look up into the night sky and whisper, “The universe has my back,” or even if you get a bit mythological and say, “Thanks, Lachesis, for that trip to Rome!” – give yourself permission to believe it, just a little bit. It might be exactly what you need to keep moving forward.
Image credits:
The Three Fates, Alexander Rothaug via Wikimedia Commons
Atropos/The Fates, Francisco Goya via Wikimedia Commons
A Golden Thread, John Melhuish Strudwick via Wikimedia Commons
Such an interesting topic, Becca. I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. I went down a rabbit hole with Human Design. I did my chart and it’s not like fate or destiny but definitely put me in this “middle ground” place you talk about where we (apparently) have certain gifts and lessons and energies, but ultimately it’s our decision if I follow what calls us or not. It certainly offers some comfort feeling we’re not just random atoms smashing around in the universe.