I thank the universe for making me who I am and giving me what I have.

A few of your habits are not yours. The way you say a certain phrase came from a grandparent. The way you hold a pen was decided by a teacher whose name you have lost.

You are, to a surprising degree, a collaboration. Assembled from accidents of place and timing and the people who happened to be nearby while you were still soft enough to take an impression.

Which makes the question of what you deserve fairly complicated, and the question of what you have been given fairly simple. A great deal, most of it arriving before you were old enough to notice.