Psychology: That’s why I don’t have any hobbies

“So, what are your hobbies?” Our author regularly stumbles here and asks herself why this is so – and what exactly is a hobby.

When we were young, my friends and I had “friend books” that we all diligently filled with our personal information, favorite boy bands and other relevant things. Hair color, place of residence, favorite animal – none of that is a problem. But I got a little nervous when it came to hobbies. Because if I’m honest – and this applies to me as a 13-year-old as well as to my current 37-year-old self – it should say: reading and petting cats. But is that enough of a hobby?

What exactly is a hobby?

Loud Duden definition A hobby is an activity “chosen as a balance to daily work, with which someone fills their free time and which they pursue with a certain amount of enthusiasm”. Well, reading fills up my free time and helps me find a balance to work. But do I pursue it “with a certain zeal”? Sounds a bit too much like self-optimization to me. Why do I need “diligence” in my free time? I think the hobby is supposed to serve as “balance”?

This definition fits wonderfully into our self-optimization-driven social media society. It’s always about what something does for us, how it makes us better and more productive. By the way, this can actually help me with my love of books: Because according to one study People who read more than 3.5 hours a week (I definitely do) live 23 months longer than people who don’t read at all. Is this “balancing” and Instagrammable enough?

My impression is that women in particular often think a lot about how their hobbies appear to others, whether they are particularly cool at the moment, and: whether they serve the omnipresent trend of self-optimization. Some time ago, knitting and other “grandma hobbies” were incredibly popular. But it felt like it was less about the aspects that drove our grandmothers (something warm to wear, something to do in front of the fireplace or TV, relaxation) and more about being cool, in keeping with the spirit of the times and content for social media to produce. A self-knitted scarf looks chic too.

What’s the point of asking about hobbies anyway?

Let’s start at a completely different point: Why do we even ask about hobbies? Isn’t the concept totally outdated? Do we have such a need to be able to categorize our counterparts, or do we tell it like it is: to put them in a drawer? Because what do we count as a hobby? A sport, an activity in which we make something? For many people, a hobby is something through which they define themselves as a person and also distinguish themselves. Because if a person tells us that they play polo in their free time, it probably paints a different picture than if they say that they tune up their VW Golf.

Even though reading seems to fit the definition of a hobby, I still have a hard time labeling it as one. When I asked my husband what his hobby was, the answer came straight away: running. I, on the other hand, would never think of calling my awkward attempts at exercise with YouTube fitness videos or on the treadmill a hobby. Is it because I feel less athletic than my husband? Am I not good enough at this to count it as a hobby? For me, sport is something I need to feel good physically and mentally, but I definitely don’t enjoy it.

It’s different for my husband, he actually enjoys running. But the idea of ​​productivity also plays a role here: He is currently training for a half marathon and is therefore running according to a special training plan with a clear goal in mind. Is this why running is considered a hobby for him?

Women often have a harder time with hobbies than men

When I asked some of my friends the question about their hobby, I got rather cautious answers: “Watching series” or “I don’t have time for hobbies.” Particularly interesting: A friend who runs at least as much as my husband would still not call jogging a hobby. Where does this discrepancy between men and women come from? Is there perhaps even a kind of gender hobby gap?

One thing is clear: on average, women have less free time than men – according to the “Leisure Monitor”, a study on leisure activities in Germany, even 22 minutes less per day. This is certainly mainly due to the distribution of roles and the fact that women still take more care of children, relatives in need of care and/or the household. Does that mean they have fewer hobbies? Because they don’t have the time or energy for it? Or are they more likely than men to feel that certain activities they enjoy are not “enough” as a hobby?

Maybe that’s why something in me is reluctant to call reading a hobby, even though I spend a lot of my free time doing it (certainly more time on average than my husband does running and engaging in it). Unconsciously, I associate the word hobby with something that gives a person joy and helps them switch off – but also pursues a goal or at least produces a meaningful result. And in my opinion, “I read my favorite author’s eight-part fantasy series within a few weeks” is not enough as a meaningful result.

Does a hobby need a goal?

But why not? Why should that be worth less than knitting a scarf, running for a certain time or pace, or painting a watercolor painting? Because we should define ourselves what makes sense and is good for us personally, and not desperately want to conform to society’s ideas of what a “real” hobby should look like.

Because as different as you can look at hobbies, their definition, their value and their social status, there is one thing they certainly shouldn’t do: put us under pressure and make us feel like we’re not good enough. Enough things in our society already do that. And finally, leisure activities – whatever we want to call them – should relax, distract and have fun, not be another stressor.

So from now on I will try to answer the question about my hobbies clearly and firmly: “Reading”. But first and foremost, I hope the question just gets asked less.

Bridget

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