Your hobby doesn't need to be a business and the joy of doing something just for fun
In 2021, I jumped into a new hobby: film photography.
It started with one film camera. Then two. And, well... you know how it is when you’re diving deep into something new. Before I knew it, I had a bunch of them.
I fell in love with it because film cameras gave me surprises. Every roll was a mystery waiting to be discovered. I took pictures, and had to wait for some time until I can see the results come out.
It also made me a better photographer, and it forced me to be intentional, to slow down, and to actually enjoy the moment instead of just rushing through it.
But lately, social media has a weird way of changing things.
It started making me feel like my hobbies needed a justification. I felt this subtle, nagging pressure to make it a "productive" hobby. I didn't want to feel like I was just a consumer. Because consumers only consume—and when you just consume, there is no Return on Investment.
So, I tried to fix it. I tried to make it productive.
First, I tried making content on Instagram, hoping to become an "analog photography content creator." It didn’t work, so I gave up.
Then, I uploaded my pictures just so people would know I do analog photography. Just keep it simple and subtle. To show my “identity” as a film photographer. However, making my Instagram “aesthetic” is a hassle, so I stopped.
Lastly, I even tried making a photo book, mostly because my other friends who love film photography were making them too. It seemed like it was the right thing to do at that time. And again, I don’t enjoy it at all.
So, I stopped. I put the cameras away. I had lost the joy of doing it, because I was too focused on making it a productive hobby.
That’s how I learned that the more I tried to make it a productive hobby, the less I enjoyed it. It gave me unnecessary pressure to create. A pressure to justify my existence and my expenses to an algorithm. Having “things to prove” even though nobody asked for it.
Then, one day, I remembered that I had a few rolls of film I hadn't developed yet. They were just sitting there, forgotten. I picked them up, walked down to a local film shop, and had them washed.
When I saw the results, everything came rushing back.
The joy of film photography.
The surprise after each roll.
The exact moments I took them.
The places I’ve been.
The people I love.
And suddenly, it just made sense.
You don’t need to justify anything if you enjoy doing it.
Happiness is a good reason to do something.
The joy of doing it is the return of investment.
You don’t need to monetize your peace of mind. You don’t need to turn your joy into a side hustle, and you certainly don't need an audience to validate what makes you happy.
We live in a world that tells us every waking hour must be productive. That every passion must have a financial or social return. They call it the hustle culture.
But what if the return on investment is simply your own happiness?
It’s okay to take photos that no one else will ever see. It’s okay to spend money on film rolls that sit in a drawer for months. It’s okay to just be a consumer of your own life, capturing moments just for you.
A hobby is meant to be an escape from the relentless pressure of the world. It is a safe space. A place where you don't have to perform. A place where you just have to be.
So, if you have a hobby that brings you joy, protect it. Don’t let the noise of hustle culture take it away from you.
Do it because you want to.
Do it because you love it.
Your happiness is the only justification you need.
I hope you find this insightful, remember:
It's not gonna be easy
But it's not impossible
Your friend,
Brian