Certified Hobby Collector: Why I’m Semi-Good at Everything and a Master of Nothing

I have a confession: I am a professional hobby hopper. A certified collector of phases. I’ve dabbled in painting, sculpting, beadwork, sewing, blacksmithing (yes, really), and even rollerblading. Can I do them all? Technically, yes. Am I good at any of them? Absolutely not.

Like, I can sew a tote bag, but ask me to make a skirt and I’ll evaporate. I can sketch a cute cartoon character, but shading? That’s my Roman Empire of frustration. I can whip up cupcakes that’ll earn applause at the office morning tea, but a croquembouche? That’s my official retirement notice from baking.

Every time I pick up something new, I get obsessed. I deep dive into tutorials, buy supplies, and annoy my friends with progress updates. And then… once I hit “semi-decent,” I check out. The dopamine fades. The honeymoon is over. And before you know it, I’m off chasing the next shiny obsession.

Gardening? Had a phase. Melbourne weather killed my motivation, so I pivoted to indoor plants (until I overwatered half of them). Knitting? Lasted exactly one lumpy scarf. Baking? Peaked at cupcakes. Bouldering? Two chalky trips to the climbing gym.

So what is it about hobbies that makes us treat them like Tinder matches? Why do we swipe to the next thrill instead of committing?

Here’s my theory: hobbies, in our generation, aren’t really about mastery, they’re about novelty. That little serotonin rush of “oh my god, I made this.” The buzz of learning something new. The freedom to quit when the fun runs out. Life is already full of things we have to commit to, such as jobs, bills, and responsibilities. Maybe hobbies should stay the one space where we’re allowed to bounce around, follow joy, and drop things guilt-free when they stop serving us.

But here’s where it gets interesting: are hobbies supposed to be about fulfilment, or just entertainment? For our parents and grandparents, hobbies were often lifelong collections, crafts, and sports they carried for decades. My dad still has his coin collection from childhood and adds to it to this day. That’s fulfilment, a slow burn, a sense of progress and identity tied to a pastime.

Today, it feels different. We hobby in short bursts, often sparked by TikTok trends or the algorithm’s latest obsession. It’s not unusual to try something, love it for three months, then drop it for the next “must-try” skill. Call it the TikTokification of hobbies, the natural result of a world where attention spans are shorter, time feels scarce, and novelty is everywhere.

And yet, science says the kind of hobby you pick really does matter. Researchers have found that active hobbies like painting, playing an instrument, or joining a sports team are linked to better mental, physical, and even social health. Passive ones, like binge-watching TV, don’t give the same boost. In fact, a huge study of over 93,000 people aged 65 and up found that those who had hobbies reported being healthier, happier, and more satisfied with life than those who didn’t. Basically, hobbies keep you young, even if it’s just a lumpy scarf or a slightly crooked sketch.

But maybe fulfilment and entertainment don’t have to be opposites, they can be stages. Sometimes the hobby that starts as a fling becomes a lifelong love, and sometimes it’s just a weekend fling with a glue gun. Both are valid. What matters isn’t how long we stick with something, but whether it gives us what we need in that moment joy, rest, distraction, or maybe even purpose.

So no, I’ll probably never be a master baker, seamstress, or sculptor. But I’ll always be a semi-skilled, slightly chaotic explorer of new things. And honestly? That’s its own kind of talent. Because at the end of the day, fulfilment isn’t about mastery, it’s about meaning. And if a hobby makes me smile, even for a fleeting season, then that’s time well spent.