In this guide
- Your job is not your entire identity
- You do not have to major in music to be a musician
- Beware of all-or-nothing thinking
- A practical choice is not necessarily giving up
- Life can happens in seasons
- The internet showed us more kinds of lives
- You might even be better because you do more than one thing
- Your hobbies do not need to become businesses
- But you still have to choose
- You are allowed to change
- Keep a thread alive
- Have things to look forward to
- So what do you want to be when you grow up?
You Don't Have to Be Just One Thing
When you are young, people ask you a question that sounds simple: “What do you want to be when you grow up?” A musician. An astronaut. A doctor. An engineer. An artist. A teacher. A writer. One answer. As if somewhere along the way you are supposed to pick one box, step inside it, and close the lid. But people are usually more complicated than that.
7 min read
The short answer
You can love music and science. You can draw and code. You can be good at math and still want to write stories. You can have a practical career and do stuff. You can change your mind. You can become interested in something at 15, 25, 45, or 70 that you never imagined would matter to you.
You do have limited time. You cannot pursue everything at once, and choices have consequences. Money matters. Opportunity matters. Luck matters. But choosing one path does not mean every other path has to disappear.
Your job is not your entire identity
A job tells people what you do for work.
It does not tell them everything you are.
Someone can be an engineer who plays jazz on weekends. A nurse can paint. A teacher can write novels. A mechanic can be an incredible guitarist. A musician can also run a business, teach, program, design, raise a family, work at a restaurant, or do something completely unrelated to music during the day.
Sometimes those things become careers. Sometimes they stay hobbies. Sometimes one slowly turns into the other. None of those versions is fake.
We tend to talk about people as though they have one defining noun:
She is a programmer.
He is a musician.
She is a doctor.
He is a lawyer.
They are an artist.
But a human being can contain a lot more than one noun.
You do not have to major in music to be a musician
If you love music but decide not to major in music, that does not mean music has to disappear from your life.
Maybe college is too expensive. Maybe your family needs you to choose something with a more predictable income. Maybe you love music but do not want your income to depend on it. Maybe you love two subjects and choose the other one academically. Maybe you do not go to college at all. Maybe you simply change your mind.
None of those things confiscate your instrument.
To me, if you play music, you are a musician.
“Professional musician” describes how someone earns money. “Musician” can describe something they do and something that is part of their life. You do not need a conservatory degree before you are allowed to use the word.
The same is true of a lot of things. You can write without being a professional writer. You can make art without selling it. You can build things without founding a company. You can study astronomy without becoming an astronomer.
You are allowed to care deeply about something even if it never appears on your resume.
If the word itself is the part that feels presumptuous, that is worth pulling apart on its own: what kind of musician are you.
Beware of all-or-nothing thinking
A lot of decisions can feel much more permanent when you are young than they actually are.
You might think:
- If I do not major in this, I am giving it up.
- If I cannot become one of the best, there is no point.
- If I cannot make money from it, it is a waste of time.
- If I choose this career, I cannot also be that kind of person.
- If I am not already good at it, maybe it is not for me.
Those are very clean choices.
Real life is messier. And can be better.
There is an enormous amount of space between “this is my full-time profession” and “this has no place in my life.” Most of life happens in that space.
You might play in a community orchestra after work. Make games on weekends. Upload songs nobody hears. Join a band in your thirties. Sell a few paintings. Teach lessons. Build a tiny business. Write one story every year. Study something because you are fascinated by it.
It still counts.
A practical choice is not necessarily giving up
Sometimes people really do have to make practical choices.
It is easy to tell someone, “Follow your dream!” when you are not the person paying their rent.
Money matters. Healthcare matters. Family responsibilities matter. Where you were born matters. The schools and teachers you had access to matter.
Some people have parents who can pay for lessons, instruments, college, and years of experimentation. Other kids start working early or help support their families or themselves. That difference is real. There is luck in life.
There is also nothing shameful about choosing stability. You can choose a reliable career and still protect the things you love.
Maybe music gets ten hours a week. Maybe it gets two. Maybe there is a period when it gets almost none because life is difficult. That is different from saying goodbye to it forever. Sometimes keeping even a tiny thread alive is enough.
Life can happens in seasons
You also do not have to pursue everything at maximum intensity at the same time.
At 16, school might take most of your energy. At 22, maybe you are trying to get your first job. At 28, perhaps music becomes a huge part of your life again. At 35, you might start painting. At 50, you might finally have the time and money for the piano lessons you wanted when you were ten.
There are seasons when one part of you gets more attention than another. That does not erase the quieter parts.
You are allowed to come back. You are allowed to explore. You got this!
The internet showed us more kinds of lives
For most of history, the people you could easily observe were the people around you and the small number of people selected for books, newspapers, television, and radio. That made certain paths look normal and everything else look strange.
The internet changed some of that. Now you can find people making music after work, artists who started late, programmers who became filmmakers, teachers building games, scientists writing novels, small business owners making music, parents returning to hobbies after twenty years, and people combining skills in ways that do not have a neat job title.
That does not mean everybody becomes “successful” online. The internet has its own survivorship bias. Algorithms tend to show us exceptional and beautiful finished work, stories with dramatic endings, extreme and controversal topics, funny memes, etc.
But it has also made something valuable more visible: there are many more ways to live a life than you might have realized. You are not limited to the few examples you happened to grow up around.
Of course, knowing that more possibilities exist does not mean they are equally available to everyone. Some people are more privileged. Some people may not have the same choices as others. Sometimes you really can feel stuck, or like there is no choice at all. Where you were born, your family situation, money, health, responsibilities, education, opportunity, and plain luck can change which doors are open and how difficult they are to reach. We are all dealt different cards, and some hands are much harder to play than others.
But the life you can see from where you are right now is not necessarily the only life you could ever have. Circumstances can change. People, opportunities, skills, technology, or even a little more time can reveal paths you could not see before. You may have to take a longer route, combine things in an unusual way, put something aside for a while, or work with fewer options than someone else. That is challenging.
But having fewer choices right now is not always the same as having no choices forever. Life can change, circumstances can shift, and sometimes possibilities appear that you could not have imagined from where you started. Sometimes moving toward them means taking a calculated risk, trying something before you feel completely ready, or making a small leap of faith in yourself. That does not mean being reckless or ignoring reality. That could mean weighing what you could lose, what you could gain, and what you can recover from? You are kind of responsible for your choices or decisions.
You will not always know whether a choice will work out before you make it. Sometimes the next part of your path only becomes visible after you take the first step.
You might even be better because you do more than one thing
Different interests can feed each other. A programmer who understands music might build a better music tool. A musician who understands psychology might become a better teacher. An artist who learns engineering might create things neither field would have produced alone. A writer who has worked ordinary jobs has more lives and environments to write about.
Steve Jobs famously took a calligraphy class simply because it interested him; years later, he credited what he learned about type and spacing with influencing the typography of the first Macintosh. Albert Einstein was not only a physicist but also a lifelong violinist who cared deeply about music. Leonardo da Vinci moved constantly between art, anatomy, engineering, mechanics, architecture, and the study of nature; his curiosity in one field often informed how he approached another.
Sometimes the strange combination is the useful part. You do not always need to decide which interest is the “real” one. The combination might eventually become your path.
And even if it never does, learning more than one thing can change the way you think.
Your hobbies do not need to become businesses
There is another strange pressure now: the moment you become good at something, someone asks whether you are going to monetize it.
You draw? Sell commissions. You make music? Build an audience. You bake? Open a shop. You have a hobby? Turn it into content.
You do not have to.
Making money from something can be wonderful. It can also change your relationship with it. Some things can remain yours. You can play guitar badly in your bedroom for twenty years because it makes Tuesday night better. That is a perfectly good reason to play guitar.
Not everything you love needs to become productive. Not everything needs an audience. Not everything needs to become a career.
But you still have to choose
Saying you can be more than one thing does not mean you can do everything. Nobody can?
Time is finite. Energy is finite. Every yes closes off some other possible use of that hour. Eventually you have to choose what deserves your attention right now.
The important part is understanding that “right now” and “forever” are not the same thing.
You can say:
For the next year, school is my priority.
That is different from:
I am no longer an artist.
You can say:
I need a stable job first.
That is different from:
I gave up on music.
You can say:
I cannot give this much time right now.
That is different from:
It is too late.
Make the best choice you can with the information and circumstances you have. You can revise it later.
You are allowed to change
You are going to learn things about yourself that you cannot possibly know yet. The job you think you want at fourteen might sound miserable at twenty-four. Something you are terrible at today might become the thing you love most. Something you love today might eventually stop fitting you.
That is not necessarily failure. You learned something.
The belief that does the most damage here is the one that says the window already closed, that you either had the talent early or you did not. It does not hold up: talent, age, and learning as an adult.
People change. Circumstances change. The world changes. A life does not have to follow the first outline you wrote for it.
Keep a thread alive
If there is something you really love but cannot make your main thing right now, try not to completely sever the connection.
Play one song. Draw once a month. Keep the camera. Save your notebook. Read about the subject. Take the class when you can. Make something small. Stay curious.
You do not know what role that interest will have in your life ten years from now. Maybe it becomes your profession. Maybe it becomes a side project. Maybe it introduces you to your closest friends. Maybe it keeps you sane during a difficult year. Maybe it is simply something that makes being alive more interesting.
That is already worth something.
For music specifically, the thread stays alive on much less than people assume. Ten or fifteen minutes a few times a week is a real practice life, not a placeholder for one: how long you should practice and building a routine that survives a busy season.
Have things to look forward to
Life can be challenging. Sometimes it is challenging for a long time, and sometimes you cannot immediately change the circumstances you are in. When you look back, remember that you were just a child. You were still learning, growing, healing, and trying to understand a world you did not know very much about yet.
And in a strange way, it is everyone's first time being a person, including your parents, teachers, and the adults around you. Adults can know more and still make mistakes. They may be carrying things from their own childhoods, doing the best they know how to do, or sometimes simply making it bad on purpose, and etc.
Understanding that does not mean excusing everything that hurt you. It just means recognizing that people are complicated, life is complicated, and none of us starts out knowing exactly how to do this. You are allowed to learn things later that you were never taught earlier, to change patterns you inherited, and to keep becoming someone new.
That is another reason I think it matters to keep things in your life that makes you a little more happy or alive, even if they seem small.
A song you want to learn. A place you want to visit. A concert to see. A project you want to finish. A game you want to make. A book you want to read. An instrument you want to try someday. A skill you are slowly getting better at. Waiting for the next season of that drama/anime/show. Someone you are excited to see.
Having something to look forward to does not solve every problem. It does not magically make difficult circumstances fair or easy. But it can give you a little piece of the future that belongs to you.
Sometimes you need big goals. Sometimes you just need something nice waiting for you on Saturday.
And the things you look forward to can change. Maybe right now you are trying to get through school, help your family, find work, save money, or simply make it through a difficult period. Your bigger plans might have to wait for a while. That does not mean they are gone.
There can still be little things to learn, make, explore, enjoy, and be curious about along the way.
I think that is part of why hobbies and creative interests matter even when they never become careers. They give us somewhere else to go mentally. They give us reasons to keep discovering things. They can introduce us to people, ideas, and versions of ourselves that we did not know existed.
You do not need to have your whole life figured out to have something to look forward to.
Sometimes it is enough to think, I wonder what happens next or I want to try that.
So what do you want to be when you grow up?
Maybe the question is too small. Instead of asking only:
“What do I want to be?”
you can also ask:
- What do I want to learn?
- What do I want to make?
- What do I want to leave behind?
- What kind of life do I want?
- What do I want to keep in my life even if nobody pays me for it?
- What am I curious about now?
You do not need a final answer. Many adults do not have the final answer either. Sometimes it is enough to do something that makes today a little more interesting, peaceful, meaningful, or happy.
Pick something you want to explore. Learn what you can. Pay attention to what the experience teaches you about yourself. Change directions.
You may eventually have a career. You may have several. You may have hobbies that matter just as much to you as your work. You may become a strange combination of things that does not have a convenient label.
That is okay.
Your life does not have to fit inside one box.
P.S. Take everything I wrote with a grain of salt. I'm also just some person on the internet XD. Idk what I'm doing either. Exploring, learning, and figuring things out as I go. Take care and wishing you all the best!
Or skip the setup and practice in one panel
Tempo Kit puts the metronome, tuner, drone, timer, and the video controls in a single browser side panel beside whatever you're learning, and logs the session for you while you play. Free core tools, no account.
Keep reading
How to practice with a Drone for Better Intonation
The oldest intonation tool there is, and the one most people skip. Tune your guitar to it by ear, practice scales over it, and hear every note against something fixed.
How to Practice With a Metronome
Where to set the click, when to move it up, why you keep losing it, and the muted-strings trick that trains timing before technique gets in the way.
Why Slow Practice Works
Speed is a by-product of accuracy, not a separate skill. What slow practice is actually doing to your playing, how slow to go, and how to climb back up.
How Long Should You Practice Every Day?
The honest answer: less than you think, more often than you're managing. What focused time buys you at each level, and what to do with a five-minute day.
How to Build a Consistent Practice Routine
Routines don't fail from laziness. They fail from setup friction and a fried brain at 9pm. Here's how to build one that survives a long day.
Music Practice Routines You Can Actually Use
Stop explaining practice and just tell me what to do. Copyable 5, 15, 20, and 30-minute routines built for the amount of time and energy you actually have today.