What If Your Talent Is Waiting for You to Notice It

 Born with a Gift, Burdened with a Purpose

“What's my talent?” – a question that sounds simple, yet echoes through our lives with the weight of purpose, identity, and potential.

Talent is a relative term, yet undeniably real. Some people are born with such clear direction that it almost feels like their talent found them before they could even form words. Think of Mozart, composing at the age of five. It’s as if certain individuals are gently pulled by something deep inside, a quiet force that urges them toward their gift. These are the rare ones, the ones whose passion speaks so loudly that it becomes impossible to ignore. But for the rest of us, talent often feels like something hidden in the fog, something that only reveals itself after we’ve walked blindly for miles.

Most people discover what they’re good at later, as their mind and personality mature, as life challenges them, inspires them, and stretches their limits. Our environments matter deeply. A child could be an extraordinary artist, but if no one puts a pencil in their hand or sees the light in their eyes when they paint, that potential can silently fade. Talent isn’t just about what you’re born with; it’s about being seen. And sadly, being seen is a privilege not everyone gets. Society tends to praise only a narrow set of skills, leaving the rest forgotten or dismissed. But talent takes many forms, some subtle, some loud, all of them valid.

There is something deeply painful about having a gift you don’t use. If it stays inside you for too long, it doesn’t simply fade, it starts to burn. It begins as a quiet ache, a discomfort, a sense that something is missing. And if you keep ignoring it, it grows into a fire that consumes your joy, your energy, and sometimes even your identity. History is full of brilliant minds who were never recognized during their lifetime, only celebrated after death. It’s almost poetic and tragic. That kind of posthumous glory feels like a curse more than a reward.

There’s another layer to all this: what happens when your passion doesn’t match your life’s path? I’ve seen people who were geniuses in art, but whose families wanted them to become doctors or lawyers. It’s not easy, especially in cultures where creative expression isn’t always seen as a real future. When we reach that chaotic teenage phase, we either feel pulled in a hundred directions or we feel completely numb. Nothing excites us, and everything feels overwhelming. That’s why discovering your talent often isn’t a straight path, it’s more like a maze, full of detours, wrong turns, and unexpected discoveries.

I’ve also witnessed something strange — people who were incredibly gifted at something, but felt no passion for it. They had the skill, but not the spark. And others, with barely any natural ability, would fight tooth and nail for the same thing, filled with fire and obsession. Isn’t that ironic? It just proves that talent alone means very little without desire. Personally, I never thought writing was for me. Even now, I don’t consider myself especially talented in it, especially when I compare myself to the literary giants of history. But something in me still wants to write. To express. To make sense of this strange, beautiful, confusing world. Maybe that’s talent too, not brilliance, but persistence.

We live in a time where information is everywhere, but wisdom feels rare. Technology has made everything faster, but in that speed, we’ve lost our own voice. We're constantly bombarded by data, trends, and expectations, leaving little room to hear what our soul is really trying to say. We scroll through other people’s lives, admire their gifts, and forget to nurture our own. We begin to believe that talent only looks a certain way, performs a certain function, or fits a specific mold. And in doing so, we abandon parts of ourselves we haven’t even met yet.

Talent isn’t just about music, math, or painting. You might be a natural leader, a brilliant listener, someone who brings calm into chaos, or someone who sees beauty where others see nothing. Maybe you’re good with your hands, with animals, with emotions, with solving problems, or connecting people. But because those things don’t come with applause or school grades, we often ignore them. Society rarely praises the quiet gifts. And so, countless people grow up thinking they’re talentless, not because they are, but because no one ever told them otherwise.

There’s a spiritual truth that resonates deeply with me “To whom much is given, much is expected”. If you were given something, even a seed of a gift, it’s not random. It’s there for a reason. And you have a quiet responsibility to bring it to life. Not because the world demands it, but because your soul does. Talents are not ornaments. They are tools. And just like a diamond, they’re worthless unpolished. Great talent is nothing without great effort. You must train it, refine it, fail with it, grow with it, and trust it, even when no one else sees it.

The process of discovery isn’t easy. You have to try different things, sports, science, literature, art, working with your hands, building, helping, communicating. You have to be willing to start over, to fail, to be average for a while. Just because you’re talented doesn’t mean you’ll be great from the beginning. And just because something is hard doesn’t mean it’s wrong. You might be one step away from unlocking something you’ll love for the rest of your life if only you’d keep going.

And finally, the truth no one likes to admit. Talent that does nothing will always lose to discipline that shows up every day. A person with average ability but strong will can move mountains. Talent might open the door, but only effort will walk you through it. So if you're still searching, don't stop. Explore, observe, and above all, listen — not to the world, but to yourself. That small whisper inside might just be your gift, waiting to be heard.

Nena

"The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away."

Pablo Picasso