There is this one question that sounds friendly, well intentioned, and completely normal, yet somehow manages to trigger a small existential crisis every single time I am asked.
"What are your hobbies?"
It usually pops up in those early university classes where everyone has to introduce themselves. One by one, people answer without hesitation, casually listing traveling, reading, climbing like they have been waiting their whole life for this exact moment.
Then it is my turn.
Not panic. Not silence. Just the slow realization that I genuinely do not know what to say.
Does scrolling through Instagram and watching Netflix count?
That is the moment I decide something needs to change. And if not 2025, then when?
So I started to research what kind of activities you can do and basically signed up for anything that sounded even remotely interesting.
Not because I had a grand plan. But because I was tired of not having an answer.
So that is how my year slowly filled up with things I never expected to try.
Dance classes
Sewing
Inline skating
Volleyball
If it existed, I probably tried it.
Each of them started with the same simple thought: Why not?
Not all of them stick, but I learn a lot.
I learned that dancing is much harder than it looks and that rhythm is not something you unlock after five minutes like a skill in a video game.
Inline skating can hurt in places I did not know existed. But cruising downhill in summer, with the breeze in your face and zero thoughts in your head, somehow makes all of it worth it.
Sewing, surprisingly, is incredibly meditative. In a very short amount of time, you can turn a random piece of fabric into something real. Something you can actually use. Which still feels a bit like magic.
Trying new activities
Saying yes more
Somewhere along the way, something else changed too.
I started saying “yes” more often.
Yes to a summer school where I showed up knowing no one and left with friends for life. A new city, new people, new perspectives, and that constant feeling of being slightly out of my comfort zone, the good kind that reminds you that you are actually doing something new.
Yes to a two week trip to IBM Research in Zurich for my master thesis. Evenings spent walking through the city, swimming at Unterletten, getting lost on purpose and slowly realizing how energizing it feels to temporarily live somewhere unfamiliar.
Yes to hackathons and events, where sleep is optional, laptops glow through the night and ideas somehow get better at 2 am. You build things that should not work, with people you just met, and somehow they do. And even when they do not, the stories are always worth it.
Saying yes to new experiences
And somewhere between awkward first attempts, sleep deprived nights and small moments of progress, something shifted. These were no longer just activities.
They became stories.
Experiences.
Actual answers.
So the next time someone asks me that question, I might still pause for a second.
But this time, I will have something to say.