Let me tell you about a woman I know. Smart, capable, the kind of person who gets things done. She kept her home beautiful, showed up fully at work, loved her family fiercely. But if you’d asked her — what do you do just for you? — she would have blinked at you. Slowly. The way you blink when someone asks a question in a language you haven’t spoken in years.

That woman was Chinwe, my friend. About four years ago, somewhere between school drop-offs and client calls and making sure there was something decent for dinner, she had quietly, completely, let go of every single thing she did just because she loved it.

As we caught up one fine morning, one thing she mentioned was that she didn’t even notice. Until she did. And then she couldn’t unnotice it.

This is what I want to talk to you about today — not the surface-level “treat yourself” version of self-care that gets sold to us in bath bomb form, but something deeper. The quiet, irreplaceable power of having something that is yours. A hobby. A pursuit. A practice. Something you show up to not because it produces anything useful, but because it makes you feel more like you.

First — What Even Is a Hobby, Really?

We tend to think of hobbies as frivolous. Extra. The thing you’ll get to “once life slows down.” But I want to reframe that entirely.

A hobby is any activity you engage in regularly, by choice, that brings you joy, stimulation, or a sense of accomplishment — and exists outside the obligations of work, family, or maintaining your life. That last part is important. Cooking dinner is not a hobby. Cooking dinner while also learning to make Moroccan tagine from scratch because it fascinates you? Now we’re talking.

Hobbies are not about productivity. They are about personhood. And that distinction matters enormously.

Why Every Woman Needs One — Or Several

Here’s something I’ve observed in my coaching work: the women who feel most themselves — most grounded, most elegant, most alive — are almost always women who have something they are into. Not just in theory. Something they actually do.

There are real, meaningful reasons for this:

Hobbies protect your identity. Life has a way of absorbing us into our roles. Wife. Mother. Employee. Manager. And these are beautiful roles — but they are not the whole of you. When you have a hobby, you maintain a relationship with yourself that exists outside of what you do for others. You are still someone, separate from your function.

Hobbies build confidence quietly. There is something quietly powerful about getting better at something you chose. Whether it’s perfecting your tennis backhand or finally completing a watercolour you’re proud of, that sense of competence spills over. Women who have hobbies carry themselves differently. I’ve seen it.

Hobbies make you more interesting — to yourself and everyone else. I say this with love: if the only thing you have to talk about is your work and your children, you have made yourself small. Elegance is not just about how you dress or how you speak — it’s about having depth. Curiosity. A life that is lived, not just managed.

Hobbies are one of the most accessible forms of mental health care. Research consistently shows that leisure activities reduce stress, lower rates of depression, and improve overall well-being. Here in Canada, where winters can be long and the pressure to be constantly productive is real, this matters. Your hobby is not wasted time. It is maintenance.

The Season You’re In Changes Everything

Here’s what I also know: the hobbies that work for you shift depending on where you are in life. And I think we do ourselves a disservice when we don’t honour that.

The woman who is single and building her life has a completely different relationship with her time than the woman who is married and managing a household, or the mother who is operating on interrupted sleep and a calendar that belongs to everyone else. The why of hobbies is constant. The what and the how has to flex.

If you are single: you have a gift, even if it doesn’t feel like one — and that gift is discretionary time. This is the season to explore widely and without guilt. Try things that feel intimidating. Take the pottery class. Sign up for the solo hiking trip. Learn a language you’ve always been drawn to, not because it’s practical but because French has always felt like the sound of who you could be. You are not waiting for your real life to begin. This is your real life, and it deserves to be filled with things that light you up.

If you are married: the dynamic shifts. Time is shared, and so is space — physical and emotional. Hobbies now require a little more intentionality. You may need to actually schedule them. (Yes, schedule joy. We schedule everything else.) And here’s something I want to say clearly: your hobby is not a threat to your partnership. A woman with her own interior world, her own passions, her own thing she disappears into on a Saturday afternoon — she is a more interesting, more present, more grounded partner. Your hobby is a gift to your marriage, not a withdrawal from it.

If you are a mother: I won’t pretend this is easy. I am a mother, and I know exactly how it feels to think that any time spent on yourself is time stolen from your children. But I want to gently push back on that story. Your children are not served by a mother who has dissolved herself entirely. They are served by a mother who models what it looks like to be a full human being. When your daughter sees you take your sketchbook to the kitchen table on a Sunday afternoon, she learns that women get to have things that are theirs. That is not a small lesson.

The Invitation

I want you to ask yourself something — and sit with it rather than answering too quickly. If you stripped away everything you have to do, and everything you do for other people, what would you be drawn to?

That pull? That’s worth following.

In my next post, I’m going to get specific — walking through the life stages and the kinds of hobbies that actually work for each one. Because “get a hobby” is easy advice. Knowing which hobby, for this season of your life, is where it gets interesting.

But for now: just notice. What have you been meaning to try? What did you used to love that you quietly set aside? What makes time move differently when you’re doing it?

Start there.