I can’t tell if this post is boring or only interesting to me. LMK in comments (if you don’t comment I’ll take the hint.) But I do think there’s something here for people who struggle with this unconventional career path. So if you’re up for it, come along with me as I share my framework for uncovering your talent. Not Passion. Talent.
Over a year ago, I queued up a podcast I was a little embarrassed to press play on: How to Get Rich by Naval Ravikant. It’s based on a tweetstorm. It’s three hours long. And yes—it’s full of bro-y Silicon Valley takes.
But underneath all that, there’s something I keep coming back to.
Naval talks about specific knowledge—the thing you’re naturally good at. The thing you can’t fake. The thing others can’t quite do like you.
It reminded me of Scott Galloway’s take on passion vs. talent:
“Anyone who tells you to follow your passion is already rich.”
(apologies for 2-in-row tech bro notes)
Passion gets you started. Talent—or your version of specific knowledge—is what keeps you going. It’s your edge. Your leverage.
For a long time, I thought my edge was passion. I had so much of it I believed I could power everything on energy alone.
I wanted to be a sculptor. I got into art school as a sculpture major. I was all in. But I also needed to survive. So I pivoted to graphic design—a trade I could get paid for. That shift wasn’t about giving up on passion. It was about building around talent. A strategy for staying creative and staying afloat.
Over time, that talent became a platform. It gave me a way to build something real.
These days, when I zoom out and reflect on what collaborators and coworkers have told me—and what I’ve lived—I see two things rise to the top: I’m good at building online communities. And I’m a resourceful problem solver—I thrive in scrappy environments.
We love to talk about passion. I did too—especially in my early founder days, when I believed energy alone could carry a vision.
But sociologist Erin A. Cech warns that passion has been weaponized. It’s been used to justify overwork, underpay, and hustle culture. (She goes deep on this in her book The Trouble With Passion and in this interview.)
So if passion isn’t enough—and talent is what creates leverage—how do they work together?
The Founder’s Equation
Passion + Talent = Momentum
Passion fuels the vision. It gives you the courage to leap before it makes sense. It’s energy. Emotion. Obsession.
Talent builds the machine. It’s your edge. The part that compounds. The part you can refine over time. It’s what makes the work actually work.
Put them together, and you get momentum.
When they’re out of balance, things get shaky. Passion without talent? You’ll spin your wheels—excited, but stuck. Talent without passion? You’ll make progress—but it’ll feel like a job, not something you want to scale. But when you have both? That’s when things click.
But What If You’re Not Sure What Your Talent Is?
This is the part most people skip.
We’re told to chase passion—but not often taught how to name our edge. If you’re not sure where your leverage lives, here are a few prompts that helped me:
1. What comes easier to you than it does to others?
Not “easy”—but easier. What do people ask you for help with, even when you’re not offering? Maybe it’s explaining things clearly. Spotting patterns. Organizing chaos into calm.
For me: it’s helping creative founders find their first champions or super users. With zero ad spend. Just momentum through community, free tools, and word of mouth. I’ve done it enough times to know: turning something raw into something real is a skill.
2. What compliments do you brush off?
We tend to dismiss our natural strengths—because they don’t feel impressive. We say things like, “Oh, that? It’s nothing.” But it’s usually not nothing. It’s a clue. What’s something people always thank you for—but you’ve never thought to name as a skill?
3. Where do you move through friction with flow?
Talent isn’t always loud. Sometimes it looks like getting to the heart of a problem faster than most. Making something work when others get stuck. Translating mess into meaning. Talent lives where you feel like you’re cheating—but you’re not. You’ve just got an edge.
4. What showed up early?
Before survival mode. Before job titles. Before “real life.” When you were a kid—what were you drawn to? What roles did you play in a group? What did you build, fix, imagine, or lead? You might not have had the words for it then—but it’s probably still there.
5. What do you want to get even better at?
Talent isn’t just what you’re already good at. It’s what you’re excited to refine. If something makes you feel alive—even when you’re doing it badly—that’s a talent worth building.
As a founder or creative, your energy is limited. You don’t have to be great at everything. But you do need to know where your edge is—because that’s where momentum starts.
Note on Passion
Passion doesn’t have to pay you. You don’t need to monetize everything you love. You can keep your passion messy, personal, and yours.
But if you want to build something sustainable?
Start with your talent. That’s where the leverage is.
Keeping in touch for me is not a chore. I answer the emails, I follow up, I explain over emails. I can organize anything and everything. Spaces, data, documents, events, homes. Come up with new ideas for niche events and actually do them from the first idea to the wrapping up of the event.
This was super interesting to me! I’ve always felt that passion comes from talent. I like being good at something and that makes me enjoy it more. I just started a company around naming businesses and brands - the part of copywriting and branding I always seemed to be best at. Hopefully, I’m on the right path for momentum. One thing I’m curious about hearing about is your ability to build online communities. That’s something that I would not qualify as a talent for myself but an area I’m hoping to get better at.