I have always dreaded the icebreaker question, “What do you like to do?” To me, it wasn’t a simple effort to get to know me better, but rather a method to make me question if any of the numerous extracurriculars I did could fall under things I “liked to do.”

Since a young age, I have always struggled with the idea of finding an activity that I wholeheartedly enjoyed and excelled at. Without something that met those two requirements, my life felt shiftless. Throughout my 16 years, I have participated in more than 13 extracurriculars — two dance styles, three sports, four instruments, two coding languages and two art styles — none of which I still do. Time after time, I’d try a new activity with the hope that I could find something that interested me, usually recommended to me by my friends and family. Then, I’d quit. Every time, I would realize I either didn’t enjoy it or felt like I wasn’t good enough to pursue it. In my friends’ cases, they all had something that clicked perfectly for them, that they had raw, undeniable talent for and a clear passion for. Whether it was playing piano from the early age of three or joining the seventh-grade soccer team on a whim and suddenly becoming a star player — I didn’t have anything like that.

One of the activities I did was taekwondo, which took up six years of my life. Initially, my dad was the one who encouraged me to join, since he loved martial arts growing up. I was originally compelled to join in hopes that maybe taekwondo could become “my thing”— something that I loved and could excel at.

I practiced taekwondo for so long, yet I still recall feeling like I just wasn’t good enough. At first, the excitement of finding a new extracurricular that could be mine took over. But a sense of inadequacy quickly infiltrated. I could never break the boards as fast as my peers, could never raise my kick as high and could never punch as hard. Expecting to feel drawn to it, I was always disappointed in myself when I dreaded going to class and felt relieved when it was over.

Each month, we had sparring practice, where two people were randomly selected to scrimmage. And each month, I felt a pit in my stomach at the thought of being chosen, because whenever I was, it almost always ended with the feeling of humiliation. Especially one time when I was selected against a much taller, stronger girl who beat me almost immediately. The pit in my stomach grew, and the feeling of hot humiliation spread all throughout my body. And at that moment, I knew that I wanted to quit. But I couldn’t figure out why. Was it just because I lost a scrimmage?

But after reflecting, I realized why — I didn’t want to quit taekwondo because a girl beat me in a match, but because I knew my heart wasn’t in it. My stomach turned every time I had to go to practice. For so long, I thought that reaction was normal and it was just nerves. But I registered later, doing something you love shouldn’t have to feel like that. Maybe I wasn’t good at taekwondo, and that didn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing. I tried it and it didn’t end up working out, which I learned to be grateful for.

Everybody has their strengths and weaknesses when it comes to talents and passions. After reassessing mine, I was able to participate in extracurricular activities that reflected what I enjoyed doing. For example, I knew I enjoyed and was strong in public speaking, so I joined the speech and debate team at school a year later. At first, I was nervous that this extracurricular activity would end up in the discard pile with the others, but after my first tournament, I felt the pieces that had been missing finally shifting into place.

I began to realize a lot more about myself that I originally hadn’t. I applied to the school newspaper upon realizing that I love to write. My passion for the outdoors and volunteering compelled me to join my local Scouts of America troop. I used to think having a long, dwindling list of previous extracurriculars made me talentless, but in reality, my talent simply lay in activities I had yet to try.

Finding passion in something is not linear, and it’s important we don’t label these attempts as “failures” but rather stepping stones to figure out what you do love. Trying out new things is important. Having a long list of past extracurriculars isn’t something to be ashamed of, but rather a signifier that you were brave enough to try new things to begin with, even if they didn’t work out. In an environment where a long list of extracurriculars is emphasized, remember: you’re not talentless just because you tried.