Before Our Eyes
A few times in my life, I've made decisions that had a feeling of extreme preordaindness: I met a person and felt I already know you, or had a choice to make and felt like I didn't really have a choice to make, the die had already been cast long ago.
There are many reasonable explanations for this phenomenon, but I want to proffer a somewhat unreasonable one.
People always say that, when you die, your life flashes before your eyes: you experience it all again, at least the highlights, at least briefly. Sometimes I like to believe (or symbolically believe) that the life I'm living now is actually just a playback of a life already lived.
In much the way that our dreams are not quite as 3D as our actual lives,[^1] I suspect that the implication here is that the beings whose lives we are replaying are higher dimensional than we are, having richer and denser experiences of which this life is just a projection. Much of the detail comes as a surprise, still, but some of the core facts of your life are so overwhelming that you recognize them as they approach you. Oh, you think: this is her. This is it. This is it.
[^1]: I don't think my dreams are 2D, exactly? But they're somehow... flatter than my real life? At least how I remember them, though I'm never sure how much the waking-me is accurately remembering the dream-me's experiences.