“If you believe you're supposed to “find” your passion, then what that suggests is that it already exists, it's already there. And all you have to do is uncover it and reveal it.” — Paul O’Keefe
There’s a story most of us grew up hearing about passion.
The story goes like this: One day, if you’re lucky, you’ll stumble onto the perfect thing. A career. A hobby. A sport. Maybe you’ll pluck the strings of a guitar, pick up a pickleball paddle, or launch your first side hustle… and you’ll just know. Everything will click into place.
For years, I believed this story. I thought that passion, once I came across it, would feel obvious and permanent. That — whether it was for a career or hobby, a sport or musical instrument — not only would my life finally make sense, I’d be instantly good at whatever it was. The rest, I assumed, would fall into place.
So, I tried one path after another — photography, guitar, journalism, hip hop dancing, even a brief stint in politics in my early twenties — waiting to “discover” my passion. As soon as I felt uncertain, bored, or hit a rough patch, I’d assume it wasn’t my real passion and move on.
This is the myth that most of us believe about passion: that it’s out there, waiting to be found. And that when we do, it’ll feel easy, obvious, and unshakeable from the start.
In my opinion, this is one of the most damaging beliefs we can have about passion, and the reason that so many people give up way too soon — before they even know if they like it or not. It keeps us from trying new things, from sticking with them when they get hard, and from putting in real effort. And if we do try and fail, we assume we’re just not passionate or talented enough. It keeps us in a gray zone of living.
For years, I thought I was the problem. But when I started digging into the research, I found I wasn’t alone. Carol Dweck, best known for her theory of fixed and growth mindsets, along with her colleagues Paul O’Keefe and Greg Walton, have done research around this lightning bolt myth.
When I spoke to O’Keefe, he told me, “If you believe you're supposed to find your passion, then what that suggests is that it already exists, it's already there. And all you have to do is uncover it and reveal it.”
But, he explained, “that’s not how interests and passions work.” They’re developed over time, by following curiosities, going down rabbit holes, and building your skills.
I wish I’d known that in my early twenties (or really, even in my early thirties). Instead, I waited for a sign — some spark that would make everything feel easy. But, as O’Keefe put it, this belief leads to unreasonable expectations. “People think that once you find that passion, it’s going to provide limitless motivation… and that pursuing that passion will be smooth sailing.”
The reality? “Of course it’s going to be hard sometimes,” he said, laughing. “It’s ridiculous to think otherwise.”
Looking back, I can see how quickly I bailed when something didn’t feel instantly right. I tried fencing after falling in love with The Princess Bride — and gave up after one awkward class. But what if I’d stuck with it? Who knows, maybe I’d be a master fencer (a maître d’armes) by now.
Of course, some passions are more challenging than others. Learning to bake bread isn’t the same as starting a tech company or training for a marathon. But in my experience, and from what I’ve seen in the research and my interviews with passionate people, challenge and learning are always part of any lasting passion. The only thing you can count on when you begin a new pursuit is that you’ll hit rough patches, setbacks, and doubts along the way.
Which is why we need to start thinking about passion as less of a lightning bolt and more of a slow burn. Most of the time, becoming passionate about something is less like falling in love at first sight and more like falling in love over time — as you get to know the quirks of a person. This type of passion may be slower to develop, but just like love, it tends to lead to greater depth — and is more likely to last.
I’ve seen this shift in my own life. When I started training jiu-jitsu, I didn’t know if I’d like it (actually, I really didn’t like it when I first started. I was bad at it, it was confusing, and it felt more like a chess match than a workout). But it checked enough boxes on my Passion Discovery Checklist, so I made the choice to commit for a certain amount of time (I gave it a year) and give it a real shot. Three and a half years later, I can barely go a day without wanting to train. I just love it so much.
I see it play out in others’ lives too. I’ve seen people get excited about a new thing, try it once or twice, then give up because they’re bad at it or because it didn’t feel as natural or as good as they expected. I’ve seen people hold back effort, thinking that if they really had passion or talent, it wouldn’t be so hard (a classic sign of a fixed mindset). I’ve also seen people who didn’t start out as naturals, who stuck with it despite their doubts — and it’s always amazing to watch their love and skill grow over time.
The real danger of the lightning bolt myth is this: If we’re supposed to “find” our passion — ideally at a young age — then we can easily start to believe there’s something wrong with us if we don’t.
This makes busting the myth all the more important. Because if you’re still waiting for a lightning bolt, know that there’s nothing wrong with you. In fact, you’re likely part of the majority for whom passion grows slowly: through effort, curiosity, and those awkward, uncertain beginnings.
The real secret? Stick with something long enough to get past the hard parts. Let your passion evolve, and you might just end up somewhere more meaningful than you ever expected.
This piece is so good and so important! Wow, just fantastic.
Also very excited to hear stories about hip hop dancing and The Princess Bride.