All my life, I have been struggling to find out what is my passion. I see how so many people are so driven by one thing or another: cooking, photography, music, cars. They are so passionate about a particular topic that they are a walking encyclopaedia of that topic!
I, on the other hand, have never been able to maintain a “hobby” for long. I will have phases, most of which do not last for more than 3 months. They are lucky if they stick for as long as 2 months.
Because of this, I have no idea what I would love doing for the rest of my life. I went to law school only because I didn’t know what else to do. I knew I dislike numbers and science (we always know what we dislike, but rarely do we know what we like), so the only “professional” option left that will please my Asian parents was law.
It wasn’t something I love, but at least it wasn’t something I hate.
So I went along with the whole motion of going to law school, graduating with honours, and proceeding to getting my certificate in legal practice, qualifying me to be a practising lawyer.
The next thing I know, I was in practice for 7 years, until I decided to move from Penang to KL, where I then took a career switch to going in-house.
In all these times, my confusion remain: what is it that I would love to do for the rest of my life?
So I spoke to a good friend about this. A friend whom I’ve known since I was 14 (I am now 32). We talked about how I do not seem to have enough passion for anything in life.
She then said, “But the one thing you have done consistently ever since I’ve known you is write.“
That struck me. Hard.
It’s true. I started writing in my diary when I was 10. I then wrote short stories, poems, blog posts, and even attempted to write songs. I have always written, in one form or another. The only reason why it didn’t struck me as a “passion” is because they took on so many forms, depending on where I was in life, that it didn’t feel like they are all one and the same!
When I was in secondary school, I wrote short stories. Creative short stories purely from my imagination. I remember one story I wrote, about a girl who got lost at the Bermuda Triangle, and how she met this tribe that lives on an island and fell in love, only to have to eventually go back home. I didn’t (and still don’t) even know much about the Bermuda Triangle! But that didn’t stop me from writing that story.
And then, the “boys” happened. That was when I started writing poems. Many poems. Mostly around love and heartbreak. Some about friendship. It was my way of “talking” about my feelings.
My writings were not good on any level. They were at most decent. But that didn’t stop me from writing. I wrote because I enjoyed writing. I didn’t care for the audience. Back then, social media hasn’t yet taken over our lives. It wasn’t a norm for people to “share” their lives with others. So I wrote for myself, and for the few people whom I dared to share my writings with.
Maybe because of that, I didn’t fear writing. There was nothing to hold me back.
This fear that developed as I grew older made me forget about what I have always been passionate about.
It wasn’t a case of me not knowing what my passion is.
It was every a case of me not daring to admit what my passion is.
My passion is to write. And I must always remember that when I write, I write for myself. Not for anyone else. If my writing benefits others in some way, that’s a bonus. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t matter.