I Followed My Passion And It Was A Huge Mistake – Here’s What I Should Have Done Instead

Welcome to the maiden voyage of Ask A Middle-Aged Guy (MAG).

I’m Chris, a senior writer with BroBible and formerly the guy behind the old Ask A Bro column.

Much has changed in my life since those weekly bro Q&A columns.

I’m 42 now, have two kids now, got separated and divorced, sunk into and dug out of depression, moved a couple times, almost went broke but found a way out of debt, took a few odd jobs to pay the rent, wrote a couple hundred post-it notes, and did a hundred other things.

In the old days, I thought myself decent at giving advice. Most of the time, however, I gave answers based on what I heard and read. I had a life but didn’t really live much of one. Plus, I was around the same age as the people emailing.

Now, I’m older than our typical audience member.

I’m also version 2.0. I’m slightly wiser, much funnier, way more honest and, most importantly, I’ve lived through some shit.

So I’m bringing back the Q&A format and answering questions each week. If you’ve already got a question, hit me up at chris[@] brobible.com.

If not, sit back and learn a little something from the first batch of inquiries.

This week, I answer questions about getting older, spying on a spouse, being a first-time dad, the joys of riding solo and following passions.

Buckle up, bitches.

Q: I graduated from college in the spring, and I’m not sure what I want to do. I was lucky enough to get a job, but it’s more about making money to pay off student loans. People keep telling me to follow my passion. The problem? I don’t have a passion. What do I do?

Ah, the old passion. Follow your passion. Live your passion. Be your passion.

I followed my passion. I made my passion my career. It was a huge fucking mistake.

I graduated from college and found myself working at a radio station as a national sales assistant.

One afternoon – on my day off – I sat in the summer sun and read Bad Haircut by Tom Perrotta from cover-to-cover.

That day, I decided I wanted to be a writer. So I wrote. In the morning, at night, during slow times at work, and any time inspiration struck.

I bounced around from job to job, each slightly similar than the previous, but all involved writing.

Eventually, I landed a job as a full-time content creator at a now-defunct website. That was the beginning of the end.

I was happy to be writing but less-than-thrilled spending hours upon hours a day writing about stuff I could care less about, stuff I found utterly pointless, and pieces that made me feel like total scum.

That tweet is #forreal. At that moment, I realized that following my passion – and making it my career – caused me to hate being a writer.

Thankfully, I’ve learned to find joy in writing again by not following the money.

Finding your passion might take a while. In the meantime, find a job that does one of two – or even both – of these things:

1. Exposes you to an industry or profession you’re absolutely interested in
2. Doesn’t make you hate going to work.

Once you find your passion, DON’T make it your job.

Do it on the side.

Do it while you collect a paycheck from a job you don’t hate.

Do it for fun. Make sure it’s always fun.

If you make your passion a career and have to do it for someone else first, you could end up hating it forever.

Q: I’m scared to death of getting older. What’s the hardest part about getting older?

Oh, you’re scared to death?

Well, bad news, man. It’s gonna happen. It happens to all of us.

So calm your tits.

Just like everything in life, getting older has positives and negatives, but if I had to pinpoint one incredibly frustrating aspect is forgetting things on the regular.

Now, I’m not talking about dementia or Alzheimer’s or forgetting names, faces, places, and moments due to declining health.

I’m talking about forgetting shit because you’ve lived a life. All the stuff that gets pushed out of your brain so that new information can find a home.

Just this weekend is a prime example of forgetting minor details. I’m over a friend’s house for his kid’s birthday, and like I usually do, I’m browsing with the intent to borrow from his home library.

I just returned a biography on Waylon Jennings, so I picked up an autobiography by Johnny Cash.

“I’m going to borrow this book,” I told him, holding it up while he breezed through the room playing host.

“OK. You know you gave that book to me for my birthday. Probably over fifteen years ago.”

Two things sprung to mind. First, I’m a fucking awesome friend. Second, I had zero recollection of that fact.

Now, this isn’t quite as monumental as forgetting the names of my son’s friends (Jesus, I forget ALL THE TIME) but it always feels odd when a person tells you “this is a thing you did that I remember that you’ve somehow blocked from memory.”

So, how to combat this issue? I’ve long been an advocate of men keeping a notebook. I think every man should, for this and many reasons.

Even if you don’t consider yourself a writer, keep a journal or ledger of notable moments for each day. Something to look back on, for your kids to look back on.

Hell, make it all bullet points for all I care. Just something to chronicle that you lived a life, did these things and had these minor little moments.

Worse comes to worst, it will at least serve as a reminder that you borrowed something from a friend even when you swear you didn’t.

Q: My husband hasn’t been himself over the last few months. I feel like something is up. I’ve asked him numerous times, to which he replied: “I’m fine.” I don’t believe him. I think he’s cheating. Is it ever okay to track your husband’s cell phone or otherwise spy on him?

Honestly, no, it’s never ok.

The first rule of thumb is, “how would you feel if the situation were reversed?” Probably pretty shitty.

But not as shitty as you’ll feel if you do go looking, find stuff you wish you never found, and now the train will go completely off the rails.

I also know people who went snooping, found diddly shit, but their spouse figured out they were looking at emails and nosing around in cell phones.

That said, if you think he’s cheating, he’s probably cheating.

An excellent analogy to explain this situation is to think about your car. You drive your car every day, at least a few times a day, for years. You get a feel for the vehicle.

Then one day, something is off. The car doesn’t feel right. No lights come on, and the car doesn’t give a warning sign, but you just FEEL something is about to go wrong.

It’s the same with spouses and partners. There’s a feeling. You have that feel. The feel is never wrong.

My suggestion is to confront him and bluntly say, “I know you’re cheating on me. I can’t prove it, but I know it.”

This could go a few ways. Your husband will either confess (though this is HIGHLY unlikely), call you fucking crazy and keep acting the same way – which is just as concrete of a confession – or admit what’s really wrong.

Maybe it’s fixable.

Maybe there’s something else going on, either physically or at work or maybe he’s just going through some life stuff that he doesn’t want to drag you down with because you’ve already got a hundred spinning plates in the air and he doesn’t want to yell “BOWLING BALL! THINK FAST!”

Long story short, confront him about your feelings.

If you really want an answer, tonight when he gets home, say “hey, can I see your cell phone?”

Q: People think I’m odd because I like to be alone most of the time. I don’t dislike people – not usually – but I just prefer to be by myself. Am I weird?

You and I should be friends!

Except, I don’t like hanging out with people, so let’s just email.

It’s not weird to want to be alone. It can get a little troubling when you have no choice but to be alone.

I like to be alone, but at any moment, I can choose to not be alone. I can call up friends, go see my kids, my parents, relatives, or just talk to strangers in Starbucks.

Once the feeling of “ok, I’ve had enough of other humans” pops up, I go and be alone again.

This is all acceptable behavior.

If you’re alone because no one wants to be around you, but you’re playing it off like “Nah, it’s cool, I like being in a running club where I’m the only member” THEN there’s cause for alarm.

Q: I’m going to be a dad for the first time at the end of the summer. To be honest, I’m freaking out. Got any advice?

Yes. FREAK THE FUCK OUT!!!

I’m kidding. I just like seeing the expression on guy’s faces. Except, I can’t see your face, but I can only imagine it’s the look when “you think it’s just a fart.”

The boy scouts have a motto. Be prepared.

My advice – there’s no way to prepare, just go with whatever the hell happens.

Here’s one thing you don’t want to do – make this transition any more difficult for your partner than it has to be.

She’s going to be deep in the trenches. She’ll need help. She doesn’t need a passive bystander or a person handing out suggestions on their way to work.

Repeatedly ask her, “Is there anything you need?” and if she gives you a list do everything on it and keep your mouth shut.

Oh, one thing you can prepare for is the delivery room. I suggest watching these movies to prepare.

Got a question for the MAG? Email Chris directly at chris [@] brobible [dot] com, or if it’s under 140 characters, hit him up on Twitter @chrisilluminati.