Hooked on a Feeling: The Unexpected Road to My Passion

We all have those moments in life when we realize, "This, right here, is it." But what no one tells you is that your passion can hit you like a plot twist in a Shonda Rhimes finale—unexpected, dramatic, and life-changing. For me, it wasn’t love at first sight. Falling in love with my passion was more like a slow burn, the kind of romance that sneaks up on you until you’re flat-out smitten.

Like many love stories, the beginning wasn’t glamorous. I wasn’t some prodigy with a straight-shot path to “finding my calling.” What I did have was curiosity—and a lot of awkward missteps along the way. Let me tell you how it all unfolded—and how that passion fuels me every day.

Growing Up in a World of Stories

Growing up in Beaumont, Texas, didn’t come with Pinterest-worthy aesthetics or endless summer camp adventures. My family was all grit and heart. My dad worked long hours at the refinery, coming home smelling like burned coffee and metal, while my mom pulled double shifts at the hospital. Life was tough, but one thing we never lacked was storytelling.

Dinner conversations were like mini soap operas, with my dad delivering play-by-play accounts of refinery drama and my mom slipping in heartfelt anecdotes about her patients—a rotating cast of Southern misfits and miracles. Our family wasn’t wealthy by any stretch, but boy, we were rich in stories.

As a kid, I internalized those. Stories were how we celebrated, coped, and connected. My dad quoting James Baldwin at the breakfast table wasn’t just random; it was his way of reminding us to dream bigger. My mom channeling Maya Angelou while braiding my sister’s hair—it was her way of instilling grace and resilience. The seeds of my passion were planted then, though I wouldn’t realize it until much later.

Finding My Voice (Literally)

Fast forward to college, where my dream was kind of like the wonky Ikea furniture of career aspirations—I had all the parts, but no clear instructions. Majoring in Sociology at a historically Black college felt like the right fit, especially because it put me at the intersection of people, culture, and storytelling. However, I second-guessed myself constantly. Everyone around me either had a clear career path or was really good at pretending they did.

Things shifted one day when I volunteered to direct a skit for a campus event. I figured I’d be helping actors hit their marks, but instead, I found myself rewriting lines, shaping characters, and accidentally activating my Oprah-at-the-Super-Bowl coach mode. The thrill of bringing a story to life—of taking experiences and giving them meaning—lit a fire I didn’t know I had.

Passion Isn’t Always Pretty

Here’s the thing about love, whether romantic or for your craft: it isn’t always sparkles and serenades. In my early twenties, discovering my passion felt less like a meet-cute montage and more like a messy rom-com misunderstanding.

After college, I became a teacher, a job that taught me so much about humanity but also left me feeling stretched thin. I was good at bringing out my students’ voices but still hadn’t quite found my own. I was drowning in lesson plans and weekend workshops, all while itching to write about the things I was experiencing.

It wasn’t glamorous—I wrote blog posts between grading papers, short stories at 2 AM when insomnia refused to let me rest. Some days, I honestly felt a little lost, like the protagonist in a coming-of-age film who’s still in the montage of making mistakes. But you know what? That’s when you know it’s real. A true passion isn’t some spark you feel only when you have time; it’s the thing you make time for, even when life gets chaotic.

Transforming the Personal into the Purposeful

There’s this saying people love to toss around, usually in inspirational Instagram captions: “Your pain becomes your purpose.” It sounds corny, right? But let me tell you—there’s some truth in it.

After years of pretending I could ignore the pull of storytelling, I finally dove in head-first. I wrote about growing up Black, gay, and Southern—not to make waves but simply to find peace. Sharing my work was terrifying at first, like baring your soul on a first date and waiting for the other person to ghost.

Instead of rejection, though, I found resonance. Folks reached out, saying my words captured emotions they didn’t know how to articulate. My story became their mirror, and I realized something profound: Putting yourself out there—and I mean really out there—builds connection. What started as deeply personal turned into something universal. That’s when I fell deeply in love with the idea of helping others find their truth, too.

How Passion Powers My Work Today

Now, I write not just for myself but for others—especially folks who feel like their stories don’t fit the mold they’re told to squeeze into. My passion drives me to ask questions that peel back the layers of what makes us human, what connects us, and what holds us back.

I’m driven by the same sense of curiosity that propelled my younger self, scribbling poetic comebacks in the margins of my sociology textbooks. Every article I write now feels like a chance to hold up a flashlight for someone walking through the same dark tunnels I’ve stumbled through. Maybe they’ll see a glimmer of light and think, “Oh, it’s not just me.”

Isn’t that what love is—helping lighten someone else’s load, even if just a little, with whatever tools you have?

How to Fall in Love with Your Passion

If you’re still figuring it out—and trust me, that’s okay—here’s what I’ve learned along the way:

  • Pay attention. Your life’s breadcrumbs are scattered everywhere. That hobby you can’t stop talking about. That subject that keeps you awake at night. Those are clues.
  • Start small. Passion doesn’t need a grand unveiling. It’s not your personal Beyoncé tour. It’s that small spark you nurture little by little until it builds its own momentum.
  • Embrace the slow burn. Not every passion has an aha moment. Some of the best ones sneak up on you, like falling in love with a friend you’ve known your whole life.
  • Stay curious. If life is a rom-com, curiosity is the meet-cute. Never stop exploring, experimenting, or asking questions.

A Love Story Still in Progress

Falling in love with your passion is like any relationship—it grows, evolves, and teaches you something new every day. Mine has brought me from the storytelling dinners of my childhood to writing articles that help people navigate their lives and relationships.

I’m grateful every single day for this journey, one that’s still unfolding. I’ve learned—and am still learning—that your passion isn’t just something you do. It’s the lens through which you see the world, a love story that never truly ends.

So, wherever you are on your journey, give yourself permission to lean in, to explore, and to fall in love—messy moments and all.