I was sitting in my room last night, bored out of my mind, and I had a thought. Yes, one singular thought, because it's summer and I can't expect the mush that is my brain to produce anything more. And although it was only one thought, it was kind of a big one. Big enough to make me sit down this morning and type it up for the world to see.

So here's my thought: what if I'm really good at something, but I don't know it yet? I could have an extraordinary talent that wows the world, but because I haven't discovered it yet, I can't know that I'm good at it. Like Mozart had music and Picasso had painting, I, too, could have a natural inclination to something. I could be a lacrosse pro, or a master knitter, or a chess whiz. Okay, maybe not the chess whiz (I'm missing a few up there, if you know what I mean), but you get the point. I'm not saying that I should drop everything and start playing lacrosse, but maybe I should try and find my calling.

I spent so many years jumping from one activity to another, from soccer to tennis to karate to dance (oh God, don't take me back), to violin and choir and track and piano (very brief, yet very bad decision), and yet nothing stuck. I have absolutely nothing to show for it unless you count the flimsy yellow belt buried deep in the back of my closet (which you should because I had to learn a jump front kick for that bitch).

But that's beside the point. It seems like everyone has a passion, something outside of school or work that drives them and defines them. Some are writers, some are musicians, some are athletes, and some are a combination of many. What am I? I can't really use Netflix-watching, neat-handwriting, occasionally funny, attempting-to-get-to-medical-school as my brand. Or can I? My binge-watching skills are truly unparalleled.

But jokes aside, I wish I had found something that stuck. Or I wish I had stuck with something until it became MY thing. I gave up on tennis because I wanted to play soccer. I gave up on soccer because I couldn't score a goal after two seasons. I gave up on violin because I secretly despised my parents for making me choosing an instrument in the orchestra instead of one in the band like all my other friends got to. I gave up on karate when the academy told me that in order to advance from yellow belt to camo belt (yes, camo is a real belt, and yes, it is absolutely hideous to look at), I would have to go from 45-minute to 60-minute lessons. Yup, you heard that right. I could've been the next Bruce Lee, but nooo, I thought camo belt was too much responsibility.

It's no wonder I can't commit to a boyfriend these days, I couldn't even commit to 15 more minutes of jump front kicking in the fourth grade.

And while I gave up on quite a few of these extracurriculars, there were some that I didn't need to give up on. No matter how many vocal lessons I took or choir practices I attended, I was never going to be the next Whitney Houston. And even though I ran track throughout my four years of high school, I was never going to be good enough to run in college or go pro. Because the fact of the matter is that no matter how hard you try, some things are just not meant to be. I know that, and I'm okay with it. I just wish that I had spent more time trying to find something that I was really good at.

Because what if Mozart never picked up the violin? Or what if Picasso spent his whole life trying to be a basketball player? In the latter's case, we would've been spared a couple of asymmetric portraits, which I personally would be fine without, but I can't say the same for art connoisseurs around the world. In the same way that these prodigies found their calling, I have to believe that I, too, will find my passion.

After all, I'm only 18 years old, and there's so much I haven't tried yet. Maybe I'll pick up horseback riding or cooking or the clarinet. Who knows? I definitely don't. But until I find my calling, I'm alright leaving my brand as a work-in-progress. Not yet complete, but with the possibility of becoming something great.