Date: April 21, 2025

Author: Jessica Palmer

There are days when I sit back and wonder if I’ll ever truly be good at something. I know I have my interests—things I enjoy and even seem to have a knack for—but deep down, there’s this constant nagging feeling that I’ll never reach the level I dream of. No matter how hard I try, there will always be someone who does it better. And it’s not that I’m comparing myself to others in a negative way, but the truth is always there, hanging over me: there’s always someone faster, more skilled, or just naturally better at the things I love doing.

It’s funny because I’ve heard people say that the joy of having a hobby is in doing it for the sake of the experience itself, not for being the best. And part of me agrees. I try to stay positive. I try to remind myself that it’s about the process, not the perfection. But there are moments when I can’t help but wish I could be just a little bit better—just enough to feel proud of what I’m doing.

I love painting, for example. I pick up a brush, and for a while, I can escape into a world of colors and strokes. But then I scroll through social media, and I see artists whose work blows mine out of the water. It’s not that they’re doing anything wrong; it’s that their talent feels unattainable to me. I want to be as good as them, or at least as close as possible. But with each painting, I see the difference between my work and theirs, and it stings a little.

It’s not just painting, either. It’s everything. Writing, cooking, playing an instrument—anything I care about, I try to master. But I constantly feel like I’m just skating by, never reaching the level I want to be at. Sometimes I wonder if that’s just the reality of being human: always striving, always feeling like there’s more to improve, no matter how much we achieve.

I guess that’s what makes it a hobby, though, right? It’s the love for the craft itself, not the need to be the best. Still, there’s this part of me that aches for more—more improvement, more growth, more skill. I want to be able to say one day that I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished, that I’ve reached the level I’ve always wanted to.

But maybe that’s just the nature of passion. Maybe it’s not about the destination, but about the pursuit. I think I’m starting to accept that. It’s not easy, and I still wish I was a little bit better at what I love. But for now, I’ll keep going. Maybe the joy isn’t in being the best. Maybe it’s in just doing it and seeing how far I can go.