Your Passion Isn’t the Problem

Let’s talk about an elephant in my life—something I’ve noticed tends to make people uncomfortable in my presence: passion.

It’s funny—when I looked up the definition of passion, it aligned precisely with how I tend to engage in many conversations. Passion is defined as a strong and barely controllable emotion, and for me, there’s a huge emphasis on being barely controllable, I just can't help myself but express it when I feel connected. My family and friends would likely attest to that sentiment. But what can I say? I’m someone who loves to educate herself on various topics, and that naturally correlates to the many topics my passion is attached to.

To me, passion is a wonderful, rejuvenating feeling. Whenever it surfaces while I’m speaking, I embrace and lean into it without shame—regardless of how the receiver may feel. That said, this has been (and still is) a work in progress for me. I’ve always noticed how uneasy people become when I share my inner thoughts, love, and intellect on a subject. Seeing their discomfort—the shutdown expressions from friends, colleagues, and loved ones—sometimes makes me feel like I’m taking up too much space..

When I reflect on why I have become so hyper-aware of my environment whenever my passion arises, it all stems from the blunt dismissal I’ve received in response. At first, the lack of engagement or the abrupt shutdown of the conversation didn’t faze me. I would simply assume they had nothing to add because they weren’t familiar with the topic. But over time, I started hearing the same recurring phrases:

“I don’t care.”
“You’re doing too much.”
“It’s not that deep.”
Or sometimes just a sigh followed by a simple “Okay.”

Eventually, those responses began to affect how I viewed myself. Suddenly, I started questioning whether my intelligence was annoying. Maybe I am doing too much. Maybe I should talk less. I found myself hesitating before speaking, biting my tongue in conversations I once would have happily joined—afraid of overtaking the discussion or coming off as an irritating “know-it-all.” The truth is, I never saw myself that way until my friends and family started calling me out for my “fun facts” or pointing out how I unnecessarily contributed to conversations. From my perspective, I was seeking intellectual discourse—hoping for a rebuttal, a challenge, or even just a new fact I could learn in return. I wanted an equal contributor to my curiosity. But instead, it became “There goes Faith.”

That realization deeply impacted how I navigated my social spaces, even within my own family. I worked on listening more, even when I disagreed or felt an overwhelming urge to engage. But the more I practiced this, the more I felt myself fading. My essence started to feel like a ghost in my subconscious, and frustration set in. I eventually got fed up and asked myself:

Why am I silencing myself to make others feel comfortable?
Why am I dimming my light for the sake of their ease?

The first emotion I felt was anger. That’s a topic I’ll write about another time, but I was angry—angry at myself for feeling the need to conform in spaces I had once considered safe, and angry at a world that discourages depth in favor of comfort. But at the end of the day, I’ve reached one simple conclusion: My passion is not the problem.

Many believe that passionate behavior is at best, childlike and endearing, and at worst, childish and obnoxious. But to me, passion is beautiful. Obnoxious is never the word I would use. The way a person’s eyes sparkle, the way a smile spreads across their face, the way their aura glows when they talk about something they love—how could I ever call that obnoxious? People who are passionate know what they want in life, and that’s powerful. They chase after their dreams and refuse to let go, and that’s admirable and sexy even, but obnoxious, it never gave.

In true “Faith” fashion, I turned to research to better understand the individuals who don’t fully appreciate all that I am—the ones who view my passion as “too much”. I found a simple list that offers insight into why some people struggle to receive passionate personalities:

  • Insecurity: Those who ridicule passionate individuals may feel insecure about their own interests or lack of enthusiasm. Mocking others can be a way to deflect attention from their own shortcomings.

  • Social Norms: In some cultures or social circles, showing strong emotions or enthusiasm is seen as inappropriate or overly dramatic. People might tease others to reinforce social norms that value stoicism or restraint.

  • Fear of Vulnerability: Passionate expressions can make others uncomfortable because they reveal vulnerability. Some people respond to this discomfort with humor or ridicule as a defense mechanism.

  • Misunderstanding: If someone doesn’t share the same interests, they may not understand the passion behind it. This misunderstanding can lead to dismissive comments or jokes.

  • Group Dynamics: In social settings, people may make fun of others to bond with peers or establish social hierarchies. Teasing can sometimes be a misguided attempt to fit in.

  • Jealousy: Passionate individuals often inspire others. Envy of someone’s ability to be enthusiastic and committed can lead to mockery.

Honestly, this list only reinforces my epiphany: My passion isn’t the problem. They are.

If you relate to this post, then this letter below is for you:

Dear Me,

Your passion is a core part of who you are—something that fuels your curiosity, your desire to connect, and your purpose. You have gone from questioning yourself to reaffirming that your passion is not the problem.

What you’ve wrestled with isn’t just about passion itself, but how it’s received by others. There’s a tension between being authentically yourself and navigating spaces where people may not be open to or comfortable with the depth you bring. That tension is real, and it’s frustrating when people make you feel like you’re taking up too much space—when in reality, you’re just fully inhabiting your own.

It can feel isolating to be someone who thinks and feels deeply, to exist in a world that sometimes sees depth as an inconvenience rather than a gift. But you are not alone. There are people who will celebrate and engage with your passion—who will thrive in conversations with you, who will match your energy and challenge your mind in the ways you crave. Those people exist, and they are your people.

And honestly? The world needs more people who care deeply. Who refuse to water themselves down. Your passion will take you places they will never be able to go. Your standard is not too high, you are not trying too hard, and you don't care too much. 

Don’t take on their negativity or listen to their taunts—they’re trying to make themselves feel better by belittling you. Don’t let anyone steal your spark. Keep being you.

Passionate people do the right thing when it's right, not when it's convenient or safe for them to do so.

It’s not your problem. It’s theirs.

Sincerely your biggest fan,

Me, Myself, and I

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