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“Find your passion. Do what you love.” I get this all the time from teachers, advisors, and my parents. If only it were that simple.
I’ve always envied people who realize their passion at a young age. Yes, there are moments when I enjoy dancing, singing, or even science homework. My interest quickly burns out, though, and I have trouble mustering the motivation to continue. Nothing lives up to my expectation of what passion should feel like.
When I started playing piano, I was really excited. I played so long that I annoyed my parents. But when the material got harder, I started dreading practices. Most days felt like hard work, without any obvious reward. After years, I realized that it’s normal to feel pain and resentment during practices. Sweet, glorious jubilation comes infrequently.
I’m 15 years old, and I recognize that I have a lot of time to experiment. I just feel like there’s a part of my identity I haven’t found yet.