At some point in adulthood, the question “What do you do for fun?” stops sounding like friendly small talk and starts feeling vaguely accusatory. I could tell you what I do for work, I could list the household jobs I’ve been avoiding or give you a detailed account of the television programmes I half-watch while rotting on my phone, but something I do purely because I enjoy it?….give me a moment.
As children, hobbies seemed to happen naturally, and were actively encouraged. We drew, collected things, made up dances, kicked footballs against walls and created questionable gifts out of glue and cardboard, and for the unlucky parents/guardians, glitter! We didn’t ask whether we were talented enough, whether the hobby matched our personal brand or whether we could eventually turn it into a profitable side hustle. We just did things because they were fun.
Finding that feeling again as an adult can be surprisingly difficult. We have less time, more responsibilities and an unfortunate awareness that craft supplies cost actual money, meaning, as adults we eventually lose our hobbies. But it is possible to find a hobby you genuinely enjoy again, you just might need to stop searching for the perfect one.
Why is it so difficult to find a hobby as an adult?
Adult hobbies come with a ridiculous amount of pressure. We think we should choose something productive, something impressive, something that makes us healthier, more interesting or potentially wealthier. Ideally, we would immediately be brilliant at it too, which, I have found, is not the case, at all.
A hobby cannot survive if we make it attend a job interview before we allow ourselves to enjoy it, sometimes we also choose hobbies for the imaginary version of ourselves rather than the person we actually are. Imaginary me has an allotment, attends pottery classes and casually speaks another language. She probably wakes up early on Saturdays and paints a masterpiece.
Actual me sometimes gets home from work, sits down for “five minutes” and accidentally becomes part of the sofa.
The version of a hobby we admire is not always the part we would enjoy doing. You might love looking at beautiful handmade quilts but hate sewing, you might like the idea of becoming a runner but dislike every moment spent running.
That doesn’t mean you’ve failed, it just means the fantasy and the activity are not the same thing.
Start with how you want to feel
Instead of beginning with “Which hobby should I have?”, ask yourself: What do I want this hobby to give me?
Perhaps you want something that:
Helps your brain feel quieter
Keeps your hands occupied
Gets you away from a screen
Gives you a reason to leave the house
Lets you make something tangible
Introduces you to other people without too much forced conversation
Adds some novelty to repetitive weeks
Makes you feel more like yourself again
Different hobbies serve different needs. If you want to feel calmer, you might enjoy cross stitch, colouring, jigsaws, baking or gardening. If you want to be more active without forcing yourself into a gym, you could try walking, swimming, dancing at home or taking photographs while exploring somewhere nearby.
If you are craving connection, a craft group, book club, board-game evening or beginner’s class might feel easier than an event where the only planned activity is “mingling”. A truly chilling word.
A hobby does not need to transform your life, it just needs to give your brain somewhere pleasant to go for half an hour.
Look backwards before you look forwards
One of the best places to search for a hobby is your own childhood. What did you enjoy before you started worrying about whether you were good at it? I first learned cross stitch at an after-school club when I was around eight or nine. My parents were working, so the club was somewhere for me to go until they finished.
I loved drawing patterns on squared paper and watching those coloured boxes become something real on Aida. I especially loved showing my slightly wonky creations to my grandma because she was the creative person in our family. She could knit actual masterpieces, I could not knit anything that remained structurally sound, so cross stitch became my way of feeling connected to her.
I eventually stopped doing it. School, university, work and the general business of becoming an adult took over. Years later, I found my way back to it. Returning to something you once loved can feel more comfortable than beginning from nothing, I mean, there is already a tiny thread connecting you to it, even if you haven’t touched it for twenty years.
Think about the things you enjoyed as a child:
Were you always drawing?
Did you make tiny homes for toys?
Did you collect leaves, stickers or interesting stones?
Did you enjoy writing stories?
Were you constantly taking photographs?
Did you like puzzles, performing, building or being outside?
You don’t have to recreate the exact activity, look for what sat underneath it instead. A child who loved making tiny rooms might enjoy miniatures, interior design, model-making or photography as an adult. Someone who filled notebooks with stories might enjoy blogging, poetry, journalling or writing fan fiction, the clues are often still there.
Pay attention to the things that already catch your attention
You probably leave small signs of your interests everywhere. Look through the posts you save, the videos you watch and the shops you always pause outside. What do you keep thinking “I’d love to try that” about? Not what do you think would make you look impressive. What are you genuinely curious about?
If your saved posts are full of handmade jewellery, embroidery and painted plant pots, there is probably something worth exploring there. If you repeatedly watch people restore old furniture but know you would hate sanding a table, perhaps it is the colour transformations or interior styling that appeals to you. You don’t need to copy the exact activity, follow the part that sparks something.
Try the smallest possible version first
You do not need to purchase the entire contents of Hobbycraft every time you feel mildly curious. I am largely saying this to myself, as I could fill a shop with all my craft supplies.
Begin with a tiny experiment:
Buy one small beginner’s kit
Borrow the equipment
Attend a single taster session
Watch a free tutorial using materials you already own
Try a library book before buying several
Choose one simple project that can be completed in an evening
The aim is to experience the hobby, not immediately construct a new identity around it. There is a particular kind of optimism involved in buying professional equipment for something you have never tried. Sometimes it works out, sometimes you are left with a cupboard full of supplies silently reminding you of the person you thought you would become.
Starting small removes some of the pressure, and if you dislike it, you have learned something without losing a small fortune.
Give it three ordinary attempts
The first time you try something is rarely a fair test. You might spend most of it learning what the equipment is called, trying to understand the instructions or discovering that you have somehow been holding everything backwards.
Try giving a new hobby three ordinary sessions.
By the third attempt, the complete confusion might have eased enough for you to decide whether you enjoy the activity itself. However, this is not a binding contract. If you hate every second of the first session, you are allowed to stop, you don’t need to complete a six-week course simply to prove you aren’t a quitter. There is a difference between feeling frustrated because you are learning and feeling miserable because the activity is not for you.
Judge the feeling, not the result
When you finish, resist immediately inspecting the result for evidence of talent.
Ask yourself:
Did I look forward to doing it?
Did I become absorbed in it?
Did it calm me down or give me energy?
Did I enjoy the process, even when I made mistakes?
Did I find myself thinking about it afterwards?
Do I want to try it again?
Did I feel a little more like myself while doing it?
Your first painting might be terrible, your cake might lean, the scones might bounce (yes, that can happen), your stitches might be wonky and the edges might be fraying, but, none of those things tell you whether you have found a hobby you enjoy.
Being bad at something is not the same as disliking it, adults are often uncomfortable with being beginners because we are used to knowing how to do things, while, a hobby gives us the rare opportunity to be a bit useless without anything terrible happening.
That can be uncomfortable, but, it can also be freeing.
Choose a hobby for your real life
The right hobby needs to fit into the life you actually have. For example, if you work full-time and feel exhausted in the evenings, a hobby requiring two hours of preparation might remain untouched, that doesn’t make you lazy, it just means the barrier to starting is too high.
Think about:
How much time you realistically have
When your energy is highest
How much space the hobby requires
Whether you can reach it without driving
How much the equipment costs
Whether you want to do it alone or with other people
How easily you can stop and return to it later
Your hobby needs to work on a normal Tuesday evening, not only on an imaginary free weekend in which you have endless energy and nobody needs anything from you. Low-energy hobbies might include cross stitch, colouring, reading, puzzles, collage, journalling or digital drawing.
For days when you have more energy, you could try photography walks, baking, jewellery-making, dancing, swimming or attending a class. You can have different hobbies for different versions of yourself.
You don’t need to choose just one
I used to think moving between hobbies meant I couldn’t stick to anything. Now I think some of us simply enjoy learning, experimenting and returning to things when the mood is right. You might cross-stitch throughout winter, take photographs in spring and become briefly obsessed with making earrings in July (earrings coming soon to my Etsy btw). None of those interests become meaningless because you move on.
A hobby does not need to be permanent to count, and it also does not need to become a business. You are allowed to bake without opening a bakery, paint without selling your work and learn crochet without producing enough blankets for an entire village. If you eventually want to sell something you make, that can be exciting, but your enjoyment does not have to earn its keep.
What if nothing sounds interesting?
Sometimes you are not missing a hobby, you are simply tired.
When life has felt overwhelming for a long time, even enjoyable things can sound like additional tasks. Starting a hobby then becomes another item on a list of ways you think you should be improving yourself. Try removing the expectation that it must feel exciting immediately.
Choose something familiar, inexpensive and easy to stop. For example, spend ten minutes colouring, take a photograph of something interesting on your usual walk, complete one tiny section of a puzzle, even put some music on and make something badly. You are not searching for a life-changing passion, you are looking for a small flicker of interest, that is enough to begin.
A few hobby ideas based on what you need
If you still have no idea where to start, choose a feeling first.
If you want to quieten a busy mind: Cross stitch, embroidery, colouring, crochet, jigsaws, baking or simple clay modelling
If you want to feel more creative: Collage, photography, jewellery-making, creative writing, digital illustration, painting or junk journalling
If you want to get away from screens: Reading, gardening, birdwatching, paper crafts, board games, walking or learning a musical instrument
If you want gentle social contact: A book club, craft group, community class, choir, volunteering or a regular board-game evening
If you want more novelty: Geocaching, trying new recipes, learning a language, visiting local museums, taking day trips or completing small monthly creative challenges
Choose one that makes you think “That could be nice” rather than one that makes you feel you ought to become a better person.
You are looking for enjoyment, not a new identity
You don’t need to discover the one perfect hobby that will define you forever, you just need to find something you would willingly do again, something that helps an ordinary evening feel a little less repetitive. Something that lets you make a mess, learn slowly or think about something other than work and everything else you are supposed to be doing.
Try one small thing, give yourself permission to be a beginner, pay attention to how it makes you feel, and if you love it, carry on. If you don’t, put it down without turning it into evidence that you are incapable of enjoying anything, you have simply ruled out one option. If you end up with several half-finished projects and a cupboard full of craft supplies? Welcome, you may already be a hobby collector.
I recently rediscovered cross stitch and started turning some of my own doodles into beginner-friendly patterns.
What hobby did you love when you were younger, and what would you like to try now?
