on sundays, the girlies will congregate at alyssa’s apartment for dinner, where we indulge in the week’s tea ☕️ and alyssa’s gorgeous cooking that rivals manhattan’s best restaurants.
once, when alyssa served soto ayam for the group, megan looked around the room and said, “all of you guys have such specific hobbies.”
“what do you mean?” i said, sipping on what was either a glass of water or a sauvignon blanc.
“you write, alyssa cooks, and kathy really likes soccer,” megan said. “i just like trying new restaurants and shopping.”
“there’s nothing wrong with liking food and shopping,” i said.
“yes, but everyone likes them,” megan said, before we returned to our regularly scheduled programming.
i was in my parents’ house in jakarta over covid, during my junior year of college, and my social life took a backseat—partly because of upper-level online classes in the opposite timezone and writing becoming a full-time job, but mostly because my friends were away in illinois, indulging in smash tournaments, beer pong, and jaeger bombs without me.
so, with this novel concept of solitary free time while locked at home, i engaged in a wide range of activities: i learned how to cook; completed at-home workouts; exhausted animal crossing new horizons; tried and loved korean drama; taught the dogs new tricks.
but i also knew that this free time was precious, that i could use it to partake in new creative endeavors i otherwise would have no time to attempt… which was when i decided to learn how to paint.
as much as i enjoyed painting, alone time with my canvasses started to feel—shockingly—lonely. my parents would be watching tv while i quarantined in another room, kneading colors that, honestly, didn’t even turn out that great.
with the capacity to find new creative projects, i didn’t want to waste time partaking in solitary hobbies where i wasn’t even that great.
shortly after this epiphany was when a friend (hi, shania!) introduced me to the magical art of crochet. when i learned that fiber arts was not only portable (i.e., i could crochet while hanging out with my family), but also didn’t have a learning curve as sharp as painting did, i was sold.
to this day, i’ve made bags, pouches, scarves, beanies, key chains—if i could crochet it instead of buy it, i will.
right now, i can confidently say that writing is my husband—our marriage ordained by God and goodreads—and that crochet is my side hoe, with whom i fornicate when writing feels exhausting.
artsy fartsy, am i a smarty?
megan’s words got me thinking about hobbies in general, about how much time—and in most cases, money—we spend on our hobbies.
i identify as a “serial hobbyist,” someone who regularly tries new hobbies and loses interest almost as quickly. i get into these cycles of obsession—over completing a video game or a writing project or shopping for a new water bottle—and then inevitably losing interest, and with it, motivation.
it’s why i have half-filled shopping carts rotting in abandoned chrome tabs, half-baked projects collecting dust in my apartment, and just as many half-edited sentences in my writing dump folder.
i used to beat myself up for the inability to follow through with my hobbies. for feeling bored of circe by madeline miller despite its rave reviews. for the failure that is 10 years of piano lessons when my sixteen-year-old cousin gerard can play like this. for only being “mediocre” at these activities by my own standards, never “good.”
that was, until i learned of the gift of ‘dnf.’
the art of ‘dnf’
dnf is a sports acronym that means ‘did not finish,’ often associated with nyck de vries’ f1 career. it is similarly used in the hobbyist world to indicate a project that someone had undertaken but neglected to finish.
while on a reddit rabbit hole about a year ago, i came across a thread about the pressure to finish every book you’ve started. as a reader, i can relate—the sludge of mediocrity in a book can be very taxing on my attention span—but as an author, i knew that some stories need that boring world-building fluff in the beginning for a better payout in the second and third acts.
and then someone said, “life is too short to finish a book you don’t like.”
i firmly believe that life is a series of time, mindset, and opportunity intersections; this concept extends to hobbies, too. a book you dnf today may have passed its momentum, or live for a future bookshelf—for a version of you that will be mature and open-minded enough to receive it. similarly, a hobby or creative endeavor that you dnf today may have served its purpose, or wait to serve you in the future.
as someone who has carried so much guilt over dnf-ing my side quests, this realization was a wave of relief. and when i started reflecting, i realized that i was the biggest try-hard for the things that do matter, like work and relationships and my writing (e.g., this newsletter).
on trying hard for the newsletter, i’ve added some new features you can check out…
a paid tier, if you want to tell me that you love me & my writing,
a newly revamped about page, with real quotes/roasts from friends,
a feedback form, if you want to rant or request topics for future posts, and
a subscriber chat, if you want to get quirky with me from time to time!
maybe i’ll never be an expert painter like picasso, or play applause-worthy pop arrangements on the piano, or chef up gourmet meals like alyssa can—but i don’t have to be. it’s okay that i’m not a jack of all trades, that i choose to engage in an activity just to have fun, that i am only human.
our jobs take up so much time that the number of people with niche hobbies is slowly decreasing. the few of us that still indulge in them are branded as quirky and rare, because, let’s be honest, starting new hobbies or creative endeavors as an adult is scary. many of us overachievers tend to believe that if we aren’t good at something the first time, then maybe that thing just wasn’t for us.
here’s a dirty secret: you don’t have to be good at your hobbies, because there’s no pressure to get a good grade or a promotion or a sizable bonus. and if the fear of other people’s opinions are getting in the way of you starting something new, i can promise you that literally nobody cares, and if they do, then you deserve better people who will let you shine like the brilliant star that you are. 🌟
if you’re trying to find that niche hobby—good for you!— don’t feel guilty about giving up in the process of finding your inner hobbyist…
as long as you don’t dnf your day-to-day responsibilities as quickly as google dnf’d its google glass, you’re probably on the right track.
thanks for stopping by,
<3 tasha
an interesting perspective on the condition of dnf projects and hobbies! i've experienced firsthand the ripening of a book on the shelf, and what joy it is to pick it up and indulge when you've finally felt the craving.