I believe in fate. Maybe it’s due to the fact that my birth as an identical twin was somewhat of a miracle, with an occurrence rate of less than two percent. I’d say that makes me feel pretty unique, but how ironic it is that I share just about all of my DNA with another individual. Or should I say, half an individual, according to those who group us together as “the twins.” But when people compare and confuse us, it feels as though a part of my identity is stolen, leaving a space that I sometimes allow selfishness to crawl into. But not my sister. Never my sister, who walks through life humbly and kindly. Sometimes I wonder why the Universe would make my selfless sister bear with such an impulsive and dependent person like me, and each time, the Universe whispers back to me: fate. It plays a balancing game of sorts, but I trust its rules. I trust that fate is the reason I learn to forgive a little more each day as my sister learns to be more confident in her actions. It must be fate that placed my sister close by as I, barely 4 pounds and needing incubator support, miraculously lasted my hospital stay.

I believe that fate rolls stars as dice, and uses the Universe as its game board. There are three major dimensions in space, and, using the horizontal, vertical, and diagonal coordinates, it’s possible to pinpoint an object’s or a person’s exact location in space. My family has three children, and it’s not a coincidence that the three of us huddled together those late nights, escaping the heated shouts echoing from our parents’ bedroom. We cried together during Grandma’s emergency procedure for an aneurysm. We fell, but we continue to rise, hand in hand. I believe fate chose my siblings’ bond to be triple-sided one; after all, a triangle is the strongest structure.

Fate may shuffle and distribute the cards in the game of life, but I believe the cards are always made of hope, and I know there is strength in holding on to that hope. When the world tells my sister that she is being “too nice,” fate reminds her that she does so because home often lacks a lot of “nice”. It tells her that there will be a day when the strength of kindness is finally recognized, so she holds on to her humble heart. When even loved ones tell my brother that he needs to “be more like a man,” fate paints a world of acceptance in my brother’s mind, so he takes his true self and shares it fearlessly with the world. As for me, when people I am closest to call me useless, fate tells me that it places me in every moment in time for a specific reason. I've come to realize that I do have a purpose: to trust in miracles. In hope. In fate itself.

My siblings and I may take paths that differ in direction, but the points where our lines meet are like checkpoints. They’re fate’s own little way of telling us that we are headed in the right direction.