Nursing was never my passion. While growing up, I never ever told anyone I wanted to be a nurse or even wanted to be anything remotely related to the medical field. I chose nursing because it fit a list of criteria that I wanted in a job: to not have to worry about what I would wear every day (scrubs), to not be stuck behind a desk, to work with people, and to have job security with a larger paycheck than what I was making in retail.
I worked through my prerequisites in a robotic fashion. In order to be accepted to the nursing program, I needed to complete A, B, and C, so I did. I started nursing school and still felt zero passion for my chosen career.
It was only during my second year of nursing school, when I started to get elbow deep (sometimes literally) into what it would be like in the nursing profession, that I started to become passionate about helping others through their most stressful situations. By the time I graduated, I was shocked to discover that this not only carried over into nursing itself, but into helping the future nurses behind me. I became ecstatic to witness people succeeding, whether it was with healing (patient) or paper writing (student). Through it all, I found myself speaking publicly, whether it was to a large group of students or faculty. This is something that I never would have imagined being even remotely comfortable with two years ago.
If I was following what had been my passion for so many decades, I would still be working hard to be a rock star, though I have little to no music capability, other than instrument dabbling and hitting notes with my voice. It was hard to come to terms with the fact that I was much more logical and science-minded than I had artistic and creative ability.
I will leave the music making to the magicians and artists that do it so well. In the mean time, I will be perfectly happy in my little niche of the world.