I know that my life will become what it was meant to be.

Nothing looks like a path while you're on it. It looks like a series of accidents, some of them bad ones, and it only resolves into a shape when viewed from about ten years further along.

Almost everyone can point to a rejection that turned out to be the hinge. The flat that fell through. The job someone else got, which was how you happened to be free in March when the actual thing appeared. At the time it was just a bad week with no meaning in it at all.

That doesn't make hard things good. It means the verdict isn't available yet, and that most of what gets filed as evidence of a ruined life is filed far too early.