At 22, I thought I was behind.
I'd just dropped out of college and was working what I thought was my dream job at the time. Meanwhile, everyone around me seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Some were still in college doing the damn thing. Others had jobs that were paying them enough to move out of their parents' house.
Meanwhile, I was waiting. And that wait cost me years.
Waiting for passion to tap me on the shoulder and say, "It's your turn now."
But it didn't. So I stalled. I tried a few things, then quit. I constantly told myself that I just hadn't found my passion yet--that it would arrive eventually, fully formed, wrapped in certainty.
Looking back, I see how seductive that idea was--and how wrong it was.
The Lie Behind "Find Your Passion"
"Find your passion" is one of those phrases that sounds helpful but quietly messes with your head.
It implies that passion is something you either have or don't have. That it's waiting for you like a soulmate--and if you haven't met it yet, you just have to keep searching.
And boy did I keep searching.
But here's the catch: waiting for passion often becomes an excuse not to start.
Not to commit. Not to risk being bad at something before you become good. It tells you to chase clarity when, in reality, clarity often comes after action.
What Passion Really Looks Like
Here's what I've learned--through writing, coding, coaching, and a dozen unfinished projects.
Passion rarely arrives at the start. It shows up in the middle.
It grows quietly, like moss, through momentum, mastery, and meaning, where momentum is that spark you feel after a few hours of focused work, mastery is the thrill of getting better at something you once found hard, and meaning is that feeling that what you're doing matters, even a little.
In the last three years, I've cultivated my passion for the things that bring me joy.
What I've learned is that almost every passion I have today began as a mild curiosity or a small experiment.
Some grew fast. Others took years. But none of them felt like a "passion" at the beginning. They felt like fumbling in the dark until I found the light. The more I invest in them, frankly, the more passionate I grow about them.
I've picked up writing again (as you well may know). I got into web development after a poor experience in college. I stopped fighting my desire to write music. All because I decided I could do everything. I didn't have to choose just one thing to do for the rest of my life.
That moment was freeing. Realizing passion is forged in the furnace of momentum, mastery, and meaning. Not the trap that is waiting for your passion to find you.
A Better Way To Think About Passion
Instead of waiting for a passion to appear, try following your curiosity.
You don't need fireworks--just a little spark.
Or commit to one small thing. Give it 30 days of consistent attention, and see what happens.
You might also want to reflect as you go. Ask yourself, is this getting more interesting as I go deeper?
And most importantly, don't ask what your passion is, ask what you're willing to get good at.
From my experience, mastering a skill is the most rewarding aspect of pursuing anything. Three years ago, I didn't know I was capable of developing anything with code. Today, I can build websites and web applications. Something I thought I wasn't capable of doing.
But because I gave it a chance, I found something I'm passionate about. It can be tough, but I love coding as much as I love writing and all the other things I rotate through regularly.
If you're feeling stuck right now, you're not broken. You're just standing at the beginning of something. Choose something small. Make a little mess.
Passion may not be immediately apparent on day one.
But if you keep showing up, it will too.
Because you don't find passion, you build it one messy step at a time.
Writing started as just a curiosity for me too. Now it’s the thing I turn to when nothing else makes sense. I’ve thought for a long time that I had to wait for the perfect idea to write anything. But most of my favorite poems and short stories have come just from showing up and putting pen to paper. I love when you said “Choose something small. Make a little mess.” That’s going on a sticky note above my desk today. Well done Idris Elijah!
As a parent, I’ve seen this idea of waiting for passion confuse even young kids, especially in a world where it feels like you’re supposed to know what you want to do by the time you turn 10. I really appreciate the reminder that curiosity, not clarity, is what we should be nurturing. Reading this made me think about how music became a bond between me and my daughter. It wasn’t instant…It has grown with each practice and each messy jam session. And that’s the beauty of it! I’ll be sharing this with my daughter tonight as a conversation starter. Beautifully said Idris Elijah!