What Happens When the Thing That Once Gave You Joy No Longer Does?

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Nobody warns you about the moment your passion turns into an obsession.
Nobody tells you what to do when the thing that once lit you up now suffocates you.

For 20 years, I had one dream: to become a professional musician.
I gave everything to it—my time, my energy, my sanity.
Until one day, my body gave out, my mind collapsed, and I realized—

I had lost myself in the pursuit.

Like many kids, I wanted to be a rockstar.

Every day after school, I’d rush home, barely saying hello to my mother, and plop onto the couch—bag still strapped to my back—just in time for The Wiggles.

My favourite song was “Play Your Guitar with Murray.”

That song wasn’t just a tune; it was an anthem, setting the stage for what I believed would be my life's purpose.

At seven, my parents enrolled me in guitar lessons, and suddenly, I wasn’t just playing along with Murray—I was playing with Shariff, my guitar teacher. To me, he was just as mythical. Each lesson was an adventure, and with every note, my love for music deepened.

For the next fifteen years, my guitar became an extension of my soul.

I played every single day.
I faked being sick to practice longer.
I lived and breathed music.

Music wasn’t just a passion—it was my identity.

I was going to be a professional musician. That was the only path.

But the dream would soon turn into a nightmare of my own doing.

But in 2021, one moment shattered everything.

On June 6th, I walked into a routine university exam—nothing complex, just a few scales and jazz chords. But that morning, my body was a wreck. I had been running on four hours of sleep a night for years, and that night, I had only gotten two. Espresso was the only thing keeping me upright.

The short walk from the train station to campus felt like a marathon. Every step drained me. By the time I got to the exam room, I was already late, but that was the least of my worries.

As I picked up my guitar, my hands trembled.

I missed the first note.
I missed the second.

My teacher raised his hand. “Start again.”

I took a deep breath.

The first note was right. The second—okay. But then, my fingers betrayed me.

Shaking, uncontrollably.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe.

My body was shutting down.

I wasn’t nervous. I wasn’t scared of failing.

I was having a panic attack.

For 20 years, I had only ever moved in one direction—forward, towards becoming a professional musician.

But on that day, my body and mind told me something I had refused to hear.

I couldn’t keep going like this.

For the first time since I was 7 years old, my dream was no longer what it once was.

That night, I went home and stared at my guitar.

For the first time, I asked myself: Why am I a musician?

I couldn’t find a real answer.

It wasn’t about passion anymore. It wasn’t about joy.

Music had become a never-ending obligation—a race where I was both the competitor and the finish line, and I was losing myself in the process.

I wondered if this dream was nothing more than an illusion.

The next day, I went off to teach my classes as usual, and one particularly student made me rethink my entire perspective on music.

At the start of every lesson, I always asked my students, “How was your day?” Usually, I got half-hearted answers. But that day, one student opened up.

Online school during COVID had taken a toll on him. He felt isolated.

He felt his childhood was being stripped away as he wasn’t able to go out and enjoy the things he normally would.

I saw a reflection of myself in him—burnt out, losing direction.

For the first time, music wasn’t about the 12 notes or the theory or the technique.

It was about something bigger.

That day, we didn’t just play scales.

We built a playlist—songs that had carried people through history.
Songs that whispered hope in the dark.
Songs that made life feel a little lighter.

Here Comes the Sun – The Beatles
Stand by Me – Ben E. King
Fast Car – Tracy Chapman
Lean on Me – Bill Withers
Imagine – John Lennon

All these songs shared a message of believing in a better tomorrow, even in the darkest of times. In the company of timeless melodies, my student shed his insecurities, embracing a genuine smile that had eluded him for weeks.

As we played, I watched my student’s shoulders relax. I saw a small smile creep onto his face.

And I realized: This is why I play music.

Not to be a rockstar. Not to prove something.

But to give people the thing I had lost—hope.

What Music Means to Me Now

My childhood dream was to become a professional musician.

Today, I still am a musician.

Not because I "play the guitar with Murray." Not because I chased a career for 20 years.

But because music is the most powerful way I know to help people.

To connect.
To heal.
To remind us that even in our darkest moments, we are not alone.

It’s quite ironic that in one of my darkest moments, I found my new calling in life.

Moreover, I found the answer to my question “Why I am a musician?”

Today, I remain a musician not just to ‘play the guitar with Murray,’ but because it grants me the extraordinary opportunity to help people become better humans and to infuse hope into their lives.

A harmonious blend of dreams, struggles, and the unwavering belief that no matter how lost we feel—music can help us find our way back.

Maybe that’s what music is really about.

I hope today’s newsletter helped with imposter syndrome. These lessons apply beyond music, too.

If you feel stuck right now, know this:

• You’re not lost. You’re just in between chapters. It's going to be bloody hard.

But one day, you’ll look back and realize—this moment was necessary.

Until then, give yourself time. And when it gets tough, talk about it.

My DMs are always open, so please don’t hesitate to reach out.

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