How I Fell in Love with My Passion

Sometimes, it feels like passions choose us, not the other way around. One moment, you’re blissfully unaware of the thing that’ll define you, and the next, you’re charging headfirst into it like it’s the last rose ceremony on The Bachelor. For me, falling in love with my passion was less a rom-com moment and more of a slow-burn romance—the kind where the quirky best friend ends up as the main love interest. And just like any relationship that matters, it’s one I constantly work on, nurturing my connection to it every single day.

Love at First Sight? Not Exactly.

Growing up in the Navajo Nation, stories weren’t just entertainment—they were currency. Seasons spent sitting cross-legged in my grandmother’s kitchen, inhaling the nutty aroma of roasted blue cornmeal, came with a side of lessons wrapped in tales. These weren’t just fables of spirits and journeys; they were blueprints for how to approach life—with humility, curiosity, and a deep respect for connection. But when you’re young, you don't appreciate the wisdom in front of you. At the time, I was too busy wishing for what I thought was “cool.”

I didn’t find my passion immediately. In fact, I tried to shake it off for years, like that overly persistent date who keeps WhatsApping you “good morning” before you’ve had coffee. I wanted something flashier, shinier—a path that said, "Look at me!"—so I chased everything from sports writing to a brief, misguided attempt at event planning (if you’ve ever coordinated 150 centerpieces for someone else’s wedding, you know chaos). But no matter what I did, I always found myself returning to storytelling. Whether it was keeping travel journals, writing notes to friends explaining elaborate plots from movies, or simply imagining other people’s lives as I got on the subway in New York, I couldn’t shake the feeling words gave me—a curious, magnetic pull to weave them into stringlights for others to follow.

Passion in the Pits

Falling in love with a passion isn’t always romantic. Sometimes, it smacks you in the face when you’re at your lowest. For me, that moment came in my mid-20s, fresh off a soul-crushing breakup that had me eating ice cream straight from the pint like Bridget Jones but with less karaoke. I was raw, running on a cocktail of heartbreak and overcaffeination, frantically trying to distract myself with podcasts, hobbies, and a little too much retail therapy. Then one day, amidst the chaos of my apartment and my tear-streaked notebook, it hit me: my emotions always found clarity on the page.

I began writing about the relationship, not to vent or wallow but to understand. Why did we fail? What was I afraid to say out loud? And when I wrote, I felt like I could finally breathe again. The beauty of storytelling, I realized, wasn’t just in spinning a good yarn—it was the way it let me untangle the knots in my own head. It gave me space to explore, to question, even to forgive.

Soon I wasn’t just writing about me. I was writing for people—capturing their stories, reframing their struggles. I published an essay about modern dating rituals rooted in cultural traditions, and readers from halfway across the globe slid into my DMs, telling me it had made them rethink how they approach connection. Storytelling stopped being just about words. It became a bridge—to others, to understanding, and most importantly, to self-discovery.

Passion Is a Relationship

Just like any good relationship, your passion demands attention. You can’t ghost it for months and expect fireworks when you reconnect (looking at you, situationships everywhere). It’s less about big dramatic moments and more about the daily grind of showing up, doing the work, and occasionally negotiating when it throws a tantrum.

Here’s how I keep the spark alive:

  1. Date Your Passion
    Yup, date it! I set aside specific times to nurture it the way you’d plan a romantic evening. Instead of dinner and a movie, I might spend Friday nights in a coffee shop, diving into work-related articles or jotting down observations in my journal. Scheduling time reminds me that commitment looks like consistency, not grand gestures.

  2. Flirt Shamelessly
    Passions need play! I experiment with storytelling styles the same way you’d match different outfits to your personality when meeting someone new. Poems one day, creative non-fiction the next. The occasional hand-written letter to an old friend. This variety lets me grow as a storyteller without putting my passion into a boring nine-to-five box.

  3. Communicate (With Yourself)
    Writing can be like a slightly needy partner—it thrives on affirmation. Not the clichéd “you’re amazing” kind, but honest check-ins. Am I being authentic? Am I challenging myself, or falling into patterns? I regularly reassess what excites or frustrates me, so I’m constantly learning and refusing to stagnate.

  4. Don’t Fear Breaks
    Ever heard someone claim “we just need some space” and it actually worked? Well, it can work with passion, too. There’s wisdom in walking away when it isn’t clicking instead of forcing the spark. Sometimes I’ll spend weeks indulging in other interests—photography, cooking, or just binge-watching Ted Lasso. And nine times out of ten, stepping back from writing invites inspiration to find me again.

When Passion Becomes Purpose

It took a lot of late nights and caffeine-fueled realizations for me to understand my passion is bigger than “just writing.” It’s about connecting—first with myself, then with others. Whether I’m reflecting on ancestral wisdom shared over kitchen tables or exploring how love transcends cultural differences, my stories have become more than ink on paper. They’re tools to spark connection, just like the tales my grandmother told me years ago.

Passions grow, they evolve, and sometimes they challenge us to be better. But the best part? They start to remind us who we are, deep down. I think that’s why I stick with mine—because it feels less like work and more like home. Sure, it’s messy sometimes (like eating popcorn in the dark messy), but it’s worth every bit of effort.

Here’s Your Call-to-Passion

So if you haven’t met your passion yet, or if you feel like it’s ignoring your texts (we’ve all been there), don’t panic. Love—even the love of the thing you’re meant to do—takes time to bloom. Start small. Pay attention to the things that excite you for no reason. Experiment, play, and trust your gut when it tells you, “Hey, we might be onto something here.”

The beauty of pursuing passion is that it doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to feel like you. And when you lean into it? That’s where the real magic happens. Just like love, the best passions don’t complete you—they simply remind you that you’ve had what it takes all along.