God Forbid A Girl Has A Hobby
Written by Abigail Frances Thompson-Leeks
It’s that sick twisting feeling in your stomach when you post a TikTok of yourself playing any instrument or that painful cringe when you let your fascination with postcards or buttons slip. Why has having a hobby become the most excruciatingly mortifying experience, and why have we become so obsessed with appearing passive?
The problem stems from a society obsessed with“ productivity”. If you cannot monetise the thing you’re obsessed with and make a profit, then surely you must be wasting time, right? No: hobbies are supposed to waste time, be silly and be pointless. They serve as a way to avoid parts of our life that are regimented and money-centric. A Medium essay by Sam Ng discusses how in all other parts of our lives we work to better our futures. We study for good grades so that we can go to good universities, and we work hard at our workplaces so that we can get promoted. Conversely, hobbies should be redundant and purely for fun. Ng claims that we do hobbies simply for the pleasure of doing them. Yet we find ourselves met with comments like“ you could make good money from this”,“ why don’t you try selling this on Etsy?” And“ you could turn this into your job” - is there something inherently wrong with doing something as a pastime, with the only benefit being your own happiness? Monetising our hobbies puts an undue amount of stress on being“ perfect”. Something like crocheting, which used to be a relaxing activity after a long week at work is now overshadowed by ensuring each stitch is perfect and that everything we create is“ marketable”. It puts others at the forefront of our time and energy when hobbies should be intrinsically selfish. It becomes another service we provide alongside our primary work. It becomes another means to an end.
So how have we evolved from encouraging hobbies in young children as a way to better themselves to feeling as though being“ passionate” is wrong? As kids, any hobby counts as play; as adults, it’s only legitimate if it“ improves” you. Running marathons is fine because it builds endurance. Learning a language is respectable because it“ expands your brain.” Even meditation gets framed as productivity; stress management for better work output. But if your hobby doesn’t promise a stronger body, sharper mind, or measurable progress, it feels embarrassing. Scrapbooking won’t get you promoted. Birdwatching won’t make you faster at sending emails. In an age where capitalism attempts to grasp all aspects of life with big green claws, having a silly futile pastime should be seen as the ultimate rebellion against industrialism.
“if your hobby doesn’t promise a stronger body, sharper mind, or measurable progress, it feels embarrassing.”
Are we so chronically online that we can’t fathom someone reading a book in the park or listening to a cassette for their own enjoyment? How have we reached a societal point where partaking in interests is seen as“ performative”? Social media encourages constant sharing, and hobbies are no longer just personal: they’re now potential content. Painting a picture? Post a photo of it on Instagram. Suddenly it has a public audience, likes, and implicit judgment. This makes hobbies feel embarrassing if they’re not“ instagram worthy”. If no one is liking it, is it truly valuable? What used to be private leisure is now an opportunity for public approval. Even hobbies that were once considered a solitary affair are now quantified by how they look online rather than how they make you feel creatively. We saw an influx of hobby centered media during the COVID pandemic: a time where productivity was sidelined along with other mundane experiences. Was this only acceptable and welcomed as genuine when we could no longer fulfill work obligations in the same way? Self-care and mindfulness became the focus for many in a time where little else provides comfort. Hobbies allowed us to hone skills from the mandated luxury of our own homes, providing a sense of resilience by teaching patience and perseverance through doing and redoing. They also afforded us a sense of creativity and satisfaction in a world where we were restricted access to community and socialisation. As soon as the world went back to normal, so did the unwavering focus on work and productivity. But why are hobbies vital to a fulfilling existence?
Hobbies, like all other things we enjoy, trigger dopamine. Dopamine allows us to feel pleasure and motivation and by stimulating our brains’ reward pathways, we can reduce the stress of our daily life, enjoy real connections with each other and even improve our quality of sleep. A recent study of more than 93,000 adults aged 65 and older found that those with hobbies reported better health, higher life satisfaction, less depression, and greater happiness regardless of where they lived. Furthermore, hobbies allow us to explore our sense of identity outside of our roles as breadwinners or family members. Hobbies help create multifaceted self images. Having various dimensions to ourselves can help reinforce our positive attributes and ultimately boost confidence.
So, it seems that in order to push against a world that measures everything by output and efficiency, the most radical approach is to indulge in so-called“ unproductive” hobbies. Allow the mistakes and the lack of progress; focus on the pleasure hobbies bring, the curiosity they breed and understand that taking time for oneself unapologetically is paramount to human existence.
