Wondering How to Find Your Passion? Consider What You Hate, Instead.

Want to watch someone die a little inside?

Ask them what their passion is.

It’s a question that’s easy to ask, hard to answer. To their credit, the person who asks is likely aiming for a meaningful exchange (while also aiming to appear thoughtful, inquisitive, and “deep”). But trying to answer it is like trying to wrap your mouth around a beach ball.

Go ahead. Ask someone this question, and watch as their eyeballs start roaming around the room, searching for the answer as if it’s over by the bar talking to their ex.

You can see them zoom out to take in the enormity of the question, come up with something good, something smart but not self-satisfied, meaningful but not mealy-mouthed—while also highlighting their ambition and values, and a clear articulation of the singular meaning and purpose of their life.

It’s no wonder why we usually end up mumbling something innocuous and lame like, “helping people.”

(Here’s another fun game: Tell a group of people to take turns sharing what they’re truly passionate about. Then when you’re done, offer anyone in the room $20 to repeat one thing anyone else said. You’ll leave with the same $20 you walked in with.)

That’s because this question can throw you into a sudden existential crisis. While you’re scrambling to come up with a brilliant response, you’re also thinking, “What is the actual answer? And more importantly, why don’t I know it?”

You’re not “bad” at finding your passion

As I say in my book, Unfollow Your Passion, there’s nothing wrong with you if you get fidgety and uncomfortable answering this question. The fault doesn’t lie with you, but with the (culturally enforced) presumption that there’s one, singular, driving force in your life, and that you should a) know what it is, and b) currently earn a living doing it.

Thinking you’ve failed at finding your passion is like saying you’re bad at eating because every few hours you’re hungry again.

If you can’t put your finger on one thing you’re passionate about, it means you likely bring passion to all the things you do. Passion isn’t a thing you run out of, like milk or printer paper. It’s a feeling, so it waxes and wanes, rises and falls, like any other feeling you have.

We’ve also mistaken passion for both a means AND an end. We think we need to know what our passion is in order to go find it, and we need to find that passion so we can keep feeling passionate. Right? This is chicken-or-egg, a snake eating its own tail. My head’s about to explode just thinking about it.

What if I asked you instead about…what you hated? What’s really getting to you lately, truly riding your last nerve?

I’m guessing you could name several. And as you explain to me why something has you irked, irritated, or enraged, you’ll likely be vehement and animated, maybe a little more flushed or funny, more of who YOU actually are, versus when you’re politely recounting what you do for a living. And guess what you’ll be feeling and exhibiting?

Passion.

Oh, the irony.

Talking about what you hate doesn’t make you “negative”

“Oh, but I don’t want to be negative! I’d rather talk about all the great work I’m doing in the world, and how important it is.”

I’m sure you would.

Newsflash: There’s nothing more boring than someone telling you how important they are. What I want to know is … the time you failed. The time you doubted yourself. The time you were hurt, or just pissed. I’d love to know what you’re dealing with right now.

Talking about situations that created friction, frustration, or anger is not the same as “being negative,” any more than talking about happiness with someone means you’ll walk away feeling happy.

Spend ten minutes talking to a person trying real hard to be positive every second and you’re going to need a nap after.

You can talk about things that baffle, bewilder, and enrage you without “being” negative. Being negative means assuming the worst of yourself and other people, and having tunnel vision for worst-case scenarios (cut to Rachel Dratch as Debbie Downer on SNL).

Sharing a very real, even fraught, situation makes you a better storyteller because instead of giving me a lecture, you can share a very specific, suspenseful, dramatic situation you’re in—a story I can follow, respond to, and root for.

That’s because you’re providing more than just information “about” yourself—you’re giving me an emotional context. I might even pile on with you, and we’ll bond more quickly because we’ve established a common “enemy.”

Show me what pisses you off, and I’ll show you who you are

I’ll make you another $20 bet: Ask someone what they’re passionate about, and then I’ll ask them what they’re pissed about. Which one of us will learn more about them?

You just lost $20.

Why? Talking about what makes you nuts gives me a clear picture of what you care about. Your passion doesn’t exist at a desk or in an industry; It lives right at the line someone crossed, the rule someone broke, the ball someone dropped.

When I was interviewing a woman to join my team for an admin support role, I didn’t ask her what she was passionate about. I said, “What’s one thing that clients do that drives you nuts?”

This was important, since I wanted to be sure to build a team that understands and respects one another’s values and boundaries. I’ve also had clients who drive me nuts, and was curious, more than anything, what her sticking point was.

“I get mad when people think I dropped the ball,” she said. “Because I don’t drop balls.”

Um, you’re hired.

Her name is Alexa, and true to her word, the woman does not drop balls. I, on the other hand, do. Another bad habit of mine is that I’ll give someone a job, then go in and do it myself, thinking I’m “helping out.” Nope! I’m confusing and frustrating them.

What this told me about Alexa is that she cares about details, and was probably organized and consistent. I was right about that.

When it came time to expand her role, I didn’t ask her the passion question.

I said, “What might be fun and interesting to try next?”

Knowing she was a voracious reader, I asked if the idea of helping with content production and reading for errors appealed. It did. She may discover she has a “passion” for the work, but she’ll only know by trying. And if it turns out she hates it? Then she won’t.

Exploring what you hate is different from complaining

Chronic complainers are no better than the toxically positive; they’re straight-up bores. They tend to cast themselves as the victim, and will remind you all the time of this fact while doing little about it. Complainers don’t actually want to change anything—which is why they stay stuck. (Want to get unstuck? Here's how to start.)

In her popular book, The Dance of Anger, clinical psychologist Harriet Lerner, PhD, says that anger can be a powerful motivator for change, but only if we reclaim that power and use it to take a new and different action.

Beware of “venting,” however, which, “may protect rather than challenge the old rules and patterns in a relationship,” Lerner writes. The only person you can change and control, she says, is you.

People who carry on about the same shit day in, day out, don’t actually want to change, which would require courage and risk. What they want is to simply be right about how wrong things are. Snooze.

Try it out: How to use what you hate to learn what you love

While no one wants to hear a daily litany of all the ways the world has done you dirty, it’s worth getting curious about what’s under your skin right now, and why. It may not even be a big thing, and that’s ok. If it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t bother you.

Doing a temperature check on what has you pissed off recently can give you some clear insights, if you’re willing to explore it honestly.

So how do you use what you hate to discover what you care about? Let’s find out.

If you really want to get the most out of these questions, don’t just glance over them. Grab a pen and write out your responses. You may be surprised at what you find.

1 | What’s one thing that’s truly pissing you off lately? Write out the context: the who, what, when. What is happening, what’s your role, and who’s involved?

2 | Next question: Why does this bother you? What is it exposing, revealing, or attempting to conceal that concerns or even enrages you?

3 | Has this happened before? Is there a recurring theme? If you recognize this feeling and frustration, what does it remind you of, or have in common with other things that bother you? Do a little free association.

4 | What does this situation or issue reveal to you about you and what you care about? What’s at stake? What boundaries are being crossed or flags are going up? What principle or idea is being violated that you can articulate?

5 | What’s one action you can take to deal with or address it? Anger is energy, and it doesn’t help to bury or deny it. Far better to channel it into a decision (not a reaction).

Your next steps

Understanding what makes you mad, and communicating it (versus venting or being a victim about it) is a powerful part of your own self-discovery.

You are a wonderful onion and there are many, many layers to peel!

If the idea of using the creative process to explore and understand what makes you tick—and what has you blocked—then you will love my new program, Breakthrough.

It’s structured like a series of live workshops, with built-in writing time—and self-paced so you can do it as you like. Want to learn more about how to explore what you’ll do next? Check out Breakthrough.