The first time I felt genuine joy in doing what I love snuck up on me like an errant wave—sudden, salty, and leaving me a little out of breath. I wasn’t expecting it, honestly. Not in the way the movies make people expect their life’s grand moment—a crescendo of violins as they suddenly exclaim, “This is it!” For me, it was smaller, quieter, but no less meaningful. It happened in my early twenties, in a coffee shop tucked along Ocean Boulevard, where my caffeine buzz collided with an old notebook and the kind of revelation I didn’t even know I needed.
The Scene: Coffee, Chaos, and a Kicked-over Sandcastle
Picture it. I had just graduated college and returned to Myrtle Beach, heart still swirling with Charleston dreams but feet planted firmly in the sandy soil of home. I was slogging through my new “real adult” job managing social media accounts for a handful of resorts. If you’ve never tried to condense the soul of a beachfront Tiki bar into an Instagram caption, congratulations—you’ve been spared true existential dread.
On the side, between curating photos of smiling tourists and scheduling posts about shrimp cocktail specials, I’d been pursuing freelance work, writing a bit of this and that—travel guides that were all “10 Best Hidden Beaches You Can’t Miss” and sunrise recommendations for people who definitely wouldn’t wake up at 6 a.m. Just enough to keep my creative muscles flexed but not enough to make me feel deeply fulfilled.
But then, one day, after a particularly long workweek filled with typo-laden tweets and guest complaints about pool chairs, I took my laptop to that coffee shop. A local spot where the smell of roasted beans mingled with the faintest whiff of sunscreen—a place that felt perfectly in between chaos and calm. I opened my laptop, ignored the work emails piling up, and started to write—not for a deadline, not for money, but for me. It started as a single sentence, then two, then a paragraph. And just like that, I was somewhere else entirely.
A Story Unfolds: How I Accidentally Wrote Myself Free
Writing has always been a part of my life. Growing up along the Grand Strand, where the ocean was both the backdrop and an unspoken metaphor, it was easy to imagination-cast myself as some wide-eyed narrator observing the ebb and flow of life. But during those years post-college, writing felt more like clocking in than opening up. I’d forgotten the joy of it entirely—until that day in the coffee shop when I let the words come without a template, brand strategy, or page limit.
I’d started weaving together loosely connected memories—scenes of my childhood summers spent in my parents’ café, the sunburned tourists who overflowed onto the streets, the infinite blue horizon that always felt like a promise. Those memories became a story. And for the first time in years, I felt something entirely new: joy. Not just the tiny flicker of satisfaction in crossing something off my to-do list, but real, unselfconscious joy. The kind that makes your chest feel light and your brain dance like it’s heard its favorite song.
To give you an idea of the difference, it was like dating someone responsible but boring for years and then, out of nowhere, meeting someone who knows your favorite obscure ‘90s TV show and can parallel park on the first try. The spark was undeniable. A part of me that had been quietly dormant jolted awake.
Joy as a Metric: Why It Matters
Here’s the thing about joy—it doesn’t always come with banners and fireworks. Sometimes, it’s as fleeting as a pebble skipping across a still water surface. But when you find it, you know. And when it came to writing for me, I realized it wasn’t actually about perfection, publication, or paychecks. It was about filling that void, the one that whispered, Life can be more than logistics and spreadsheets. Life can be alive.
Joy often gets shuffled to the side because it doesn’t seem practical. It’s easy to mistake it for indulgence. But here’s the truth—joy is foundational. Whether you’re trying to write a novel or build a relationship, if the process doesn’t bring moments of joy along the way, you’re robbing yourself of the spark that keeps you going.
Finding Joy in Your Own Passion: It’s Simpler Than You Think
Here’s where I get real with you. You don’t have to move mountains, quit your job, or upend your life to find joy in your passions (though if you’re feeling tempted to book a one-way ticket to a tropical island, who am I to stop you?). Most of the time, joy shows up when you create room for it in the tiniest moments. Here’s what worked for me:
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Detach from the Pressure of “Doing It Right”
Whether you’re trying to write, paint, dance, or even learn how to cook without setting off the smoke alarm, ignore the impulse to “excel” immediately. The beauty is in the attempt itself. -
Make It Yours Again
Passion is infinitely more rewarding when it’s untethered from expectations. I learned this firsthand when I realized that writing wasn’t just a task or a paycheck—it was my way of making sense of the world. -
Start Small (and Stay Curious)
Joy doesn’t demand that you strike gold on the first dig. Begin by carving out chunks of time for whatever it is that lights you up. Over time, it grows like the gradual realignment of a kaleidoscope, shifting until something breathtaking clicks into place. -
Celebrate the Process, Not Just the Outcome
If your hobby, goal, or creative pursuit feels like an endless ladder climb toward some distant peak, you’re doing it wrong. Stop for a moment, look around, and appreciate the view and the climb itself.
What That First Joy Taught Me About Everything Else
It’s funny how one experience can ripple into every facet of your life. That small burst of joy I felt writing in a coffee shop eventually led to my debut novel. But, more importantly, it taught me the necessity of joy in how I approach the rest of my life—dating, relationships, or even just the way I treat myself after a long day.
Whether you’re figuring out your creative passions, charting a new course in your career, or navigating relationships, there’s a universal truth to this: joy is an anchor, not an extravagance. It’s what steadies you when life throws curveballs or when you feel adrift in the monotony of daily routine.
So here’s my gentle nudge to you: Watch for the small moments of joy. Follow them. Whether you find them in the rhythm of waves, in the smile of a stranger, or in penning the first line of something new, joy deserves to be noticed and nurtured. And when you treat it as such, it’ll work its magic, shaping your path in the ways you least expect.
