When I was 12, I fell in love—with a pen, a blank sheet of paper, and the possibilities they held. I don’t mean that in some dramatic, Hallmark-card sense, where the heavens opened and angels sang. It was more like watching a movie where the lead characters meet awkwardly at a coffee shop and somehow just… click. Writing was that for me. It didn’t sweep me off my feet all at once—it flirted with me, teased me, tested my patience, and then, over time, seduced me completely.

Now, years later, writing has become my compass, my coping mechanism, my love language, and yes, my full-time gig. But the road to solidifying that relationship wasn’t without its challenges. Building any kind of passion (whether it’s for your craft, a person, or pineapple on pizza) requires time, commitment, and a little self-discovery. So, let’s break it down and talk about how falling in love with your passion works—and how it can drive you to create a purposeful life.

The Meet-Cute: Finding Your Passion in Unexpected Places

For me, it started in church. The South Side of Chicago might not scream “literary oasis,” but my church community loved a good story. Whether it was the pastor turning a Bible verse into a parable with real-world grit or my mom reading Toni Morrison aloud in the evenings, stories wrapped themselves around my everyday life.

But the real moment happened during a 7th-grade English class. My teacher, Mrs. Freeman—think Viola Davis with a dash of Simon Cowell—gave us an assignment to write a short story about anything we wanted. I wrote about a jazz musician haunted by the ghost of his ex-wife. Don’t ask me where that idea came from (12-year-old me was clearly in my feelings), but I remember the thrill of creating a world, crafting dialogue, and hearing Mrs. Freeman say, “This is good, DeAndre.” It hit me like a rom-com montage. Writing didn’t just let me tell a story; it let me feel something real.

Actionable Tip: Pay attention to the moments when you lose track of time. Whether it’s sketching on a napkin, baking cookies that look like they belong in an art museum, or cracking your friends up with spot-on impressions of their exes, those little sparks often lead to big passions. Follow them.

The Honeymoon Phase: Chasing the High

After that initial spark, I was hooked. I wrote poetry, songs, essays—anything that let me tangle with words. I wore my influences like hand-me-down clothes: James Baldwin’s fire for truth, Gwendolyn Brooks’ ability to turn the mundane into magic, and occasionally, Tupac’s righteous anger.

I’ll admit, I got cocky in high school. I joined the slam poetry team thinking I would be the next Langston Hughes. (Spoiler alert: I was not.) During one competition, I forgot half my poem onstage and winged the rest of it. The crowd clapped politely, but inside, I was mortified. It was my first real breakup with writing—it felt like it had betrayed me. Or maybe I had betrayed it.

Here’s the thing about passion: it doesn’t thrive on infatuation alone. Like any relationship, the honeymoon phase ends, and you have to decide whether you’re in it for the long haul.

Actionable Tip: Embrace the awkward stumbles. Falling in love with your passion isn’t about being perfect; it’s about showing up, even when you stumble. Don’t be afraid to make bad art, mess up a recipe, or strike out during karaoke night. Those “cringe” moments are proof that you’re growing.

The Commitment: Putting in the Work

By the time I got to college, writing and I had settled into a steady rhythm. Northwestern University opened my eyes to new ways of telling stories. A semester in Paris? Even better. That city lives and breathes creativity. From the tiny bookstores along the Seine to jazz spilling out of underground clubs, Paris whispered, You can do this.

But here’s what no one tells you about love—whether it’s romantic or creative. Sometimes, it feels like showing up for a job. Some mornings, I’d stare at a blank page, unsure whether I wanted to throw my laptop out the window or just take a nap. Yet, it was in those unglamorous moments that the real stuff happened. I wrote when I didn’t feel like it. One day it was trash; the next, it was decent. Eventually, it became good.

Actionable Tip: Treat your passion like you treat the gym (or at least the idea of going to the gym). Consistency beats inspiration every time. Block out time in your week—20 minutes, two hours, whatever you have—and do the thing. No excuses.

The Soulmate Stage: Passion as Purpose

Today, writing is my partner in crime. It’s how I process Chicago’s complexities—gentrification that creeps in like an uninvited house guest, youth activism that proves hope isn’t just a buzzword, and the rhythm of jazz and hip-hop that pulses through the city like a heartbeat.

What’s wild is how writing has evolved with me. It’s no longer just a creative outlet; it’s how I connect. Whether through teaching urban youth how to use their voices or connecting with readers on this very platform, writing keeps me searching for all those small, human moments that tie us together.

Actionable Tip: A passion shouldn’t just serve you—it should serve others. Ask yourself: How does this love improve the world around me? How does it help someone else feel seen, heard, or inspired? Sharing your gifts magnifies the love.

The Takeaway: Falling in Love with Yourself Along the Way

Here’s the kicker: falling in love with your passion isn’t just about the passion itself. It’s about falling in love with yourself—the version of you that’s brave enough to create, fail, and try again. Writing has taught me to listen closely, to stay curious, and to embrace discomfort.

And that’s the beauty of passion: It’s not some one-time thing you find, like a matching sock at the bottom of the laundry basket. It’s a relationship you build, brick by brick, day by day. Like all great partnerships, it grows alongside you, changing shape as you do.

So, to those still searching for the “thing” that lights a fire in your chest—don’t rush the process. The same way you’d nurture a new relationship, nurture your curiosity. Be playful with it. Be patient with yourself. And most of all, be open to the unexpected.

Because one day, when you least expect it, you might just find yourself falling in love.