15 Obstacles That Led to Discovering Your Passion and What They Teach About Self-Discovery

My biggest obstacle was living as two completely different people — the “good girl” who was praised versus the authentic me who had to stay hidden. I was adopted and learned early that my real emotions were “wrong,” so I became expert at people-pleasing while my true self was bursting at the seams.

This split nearly destroyed me in my early twenties. I was running from myself constantly, staying numb and distracted, letting people with bad intentions into my life because I had zero sense of who I actually was. I hit rock bottom lying on my kitchen floor, crying uncontrollably, until I heard a small voice say “enough.”

That breakdown became my breakthrough into therapy work. I had to literally learn the ABCs of being human again — figuring out what I liked, how I felt, rebuilding from scratch rather than just fixing what was broken. The process taught me that belonging to yourself matters more than fitting in anywhere else.

Now I help clients who are stuck in similar patterns of hiding their authentic selves. When someone tells me they feel like they’re living two different lives or don’t even know what they actually want anymore, I know exactly where they are because I’ve been there. That lived experience of complete reconstruction is what makes my work effective.

The biggest obstacle I faced was during my doctoral training when I experienced severe burnout myself. I was working excessive hours, saying yes to everything, and completely ignoring my own mental health principles. The irony wasn’t lost on me — here I was training to help others with psychological distress while completely failing to manage my own.

This breakdown forced me to step back and actually apply the research I was studying. I implemented the same structure and boundary-setting strategies I now teach clients dealing with burnout syndrome. I had to learn that saying no wasn’t professional weakness — it was essential for sustainable practice.

What emerged from this crisis was my finding of Lacanian psychoanalysis. Instead of just managing symptoms like I’d been taught, I became fascinated with understanding the deeper unconscious patterns that drive our repetitive behaviors. This shift from quick fixes to genuine structural change became the foundation of my entire clinical approach.

The lesson was profound: you can’t guide others through territories you haven’t mapped yourself. That personal struggle with burnout taught me that the most meaningful therapeutic work happens when we stop avoiding difficult questions and start sitting with them. It’s why I now tell clients that analysis isn’t about solutions — it’s about uncovering what’s really driving the patterns that keep us stuck.

A couple of years back, I experienced what I refer to as “productive burnout.” My digital marketing career seemed perfect on resume: campaigns running, email inbox within bounds, but I was on autopilot. I didn’t dislike the job. There just wasn’t anything that engaged me. That grinding, gentle detachment turned into a much bigger question: If this isn’t it, then what is?

The hindrance wasn’t a catastrophic failure, it was lethargy. And for a person who was accustomed to pursuit of metrics and to-do lists, that sort of inertia was disturbing. So I resorted to that which any overachiever-in-recovery might: attempted to rectify with further optimization: podcasts, career texts, journal hacks.

Nothing of it succeeded.

But then one evening, I made a cup of oolong tea natively. Not with a microwave mug and off-the-counter pack, but with loose leaf, water of proper temperature, and a basic gaiwan. Fifteen minutes, three pours, no screens. It wasn’t life-altering in the moment, but I can recall feeling: This is mine.

That small action was a ritual of life. Then a weekend pastime. Thereafter, Summit Breeze Tea became a company, of course, but something else besides: a craft that I love.

The moral? Sometimes your heart isn’t buried beneath hurt. It’s masked beneath distractions. You don’t always uncover it by gritting your teeth. Sometimes, you uncover it by observing what softly ignites you, and creating space for it to breathe.

So don’t wait until you have a breakdown, then try boiling water, gently. That helped me.

One of the main hurdles that I overcame was the uncertainty of leaving an established career to step into something more nebulous. Prior to co-founding my company, I struggled with a fear of failure and the discomfort of embarking on a new career for which I had limited formal experience. Leaving the stability of my former career to engage in that unknown situation, however, turned out to be the moment that exposed my deep love for hospitality and what it meant to create meaningful experiences around coffee. The discomfort of navigating the unknown situation grew my resilience and clarified the type of work that made me feel like I was truly living.

This set of experiences taught me that processes of discovery don’t often look linear, and that we are required to endure discomfort and have trust that trial and error will clarify what feels right. Often, we don’t find true passion in the safety of what we already know, but rather in the risks we are willing to take to venture into the unknown.

The most significant barrier I faced in my journey was getting stuck in corporate jobs that were comfortable but didn’t quite excite me. I was “succeeding” by all the traditional metrics: hitting numbers, climbing the ladder, etc. It just didn’t feel meaningful to me. The real inflection point for me was when I finally got to the point where I was mad at myself for spending 60 hours a week, week after week, helping build someone else’s dream. My dream was sitting on the sidelines just wishing it had someone to take on something with it. That moment of pain was where I was finally able to be creative about what would make food and tech and business intersect in a way that would be meaningful to me. Starting my business was a giant leap of faith, but the pain of not doing it was so much worse than the fear of failure.

I think the biggest lesson I’ve learned is that passion isn’t something that shows up while you are comfortable or complacent. It usually only comes when you’ve hit a level of frustration where you give yourself permission to figure out how to solve a problem on your terms. I also think that barrier taught me that the journey of self-discovery isn’t some zen meditation exercise, but is rather formed in the pressure of realizing you simply can’t stand the current situation any longer. When I finally reached that point, building Food Truck Club became more than just a job.

For me, the obstacle that shaped my journey most was the feeling of being stuck between ambition and uncertainty in the early days of my business. I had the skills and interest in AI, but I was surrounded by doubts: was the market too crowded, was I stretching too thin, would clients trust a new company in such a competitive space? That tension felt like an obstacle I couldn’t shake, and there were moments when walking away seemed easier.

But instead of stepping back, I leaned into the discomfort by taking on projects that scared me, like pitching to established players in insurance when we were still a young startup. The surprising thing was that in those moments of risk, I discovered my passion wasn’t just in building AI systems, but in translating complex technology into real-world value for people who needed it most. That clarity didn’t come from comfort; it came from wrestling with doubt.

The lesson I took away is that self-discovery rarely happens in smooth, linear steps. It’s often the obstacles — the setbacks, the doubts, the uncomfortable leaps — that strip away assumptions and reveal what actually drives you. In my case, it taught me that passion is less about what you can do and more about what you’re willing to fight through uncertainty to keep doing.

One significant obstacle I overcame was navigating the early uncertainty of leaving a stable career path to pursue something I was deeply passionate about: pet care. There were moments of doubt, but those challenges pushed me to build my company with resilience and purpose. Through that journey, I discovered that my true passion lies in creating safe, loving environments for pets while supporting pet parents. The biggest lesson it taught me is that self-discovery often comes through discomfort — what feels like a setback can actually open the door to uncovering your purpose.