I hated the ballet, but I liked performing. I did 20 shows, and I

The words of Ansel Elgort ring with the paradox of discovery: “I hated the ballet, but I liked performing. I did 20 shows, and I couldn't get the smile off my face.” At their heart, they speak to an ancient truth—that sometimes the path we dislike leads us to the treasure we were always meant to find. He did not love the discipline, the formality, or the rigor of ballet, but within that vessel he found the flame of performance, the joy of expression, the power of standing before others and bringing something alive.

To hate the ballet but to love the act of performing is to reveal that the vessel is not always the destination. Often, we begin in places that feel foreign or uncomfortable, yet they awaken within us gifts that we never knew we carried. The smile that could not leave his face is the unmistakable sign of calling. For when the heart is aligned with its true joy, effort becomes delight, and even hardship becomes bearable. Thus, what began as dislike ended as revelation: the realization that he was born not for the form, but for the stage.

The ancients, too, knew this pattern well. Consider the life of Marcus Aurelius, who as a youth despised many of the burdens placed upon him by tutors, philosophers, and the stern hand of Roman discipline. Yet in those practices he found his destiny—not in the details of study that wearied him, but in the deeper strength they forged within him, strength that prepared him to be emperor and philosopher-king. Elgort’s dislike of ballet mirrors this: the training may have been unwanted, but the discovery of the stage was priceless.

The smile that could not be erased is the greatest sign of authenticity. One may endure labor and grow weary, but the heart reveals its truth through joy. It is in those moments when we forget to hide our delight, when we lose ourselves in what we do, that we glimpse our true path. Elgort’s words remind us that joy is not found in every detail of the journey, but in the alignment of the soul with its true work. For it is possible to hate the training yet love the fruit, to dislike the road yet rejoice in the destination.

The wisdom here is that not every path we take is meant to be loved for its own sake. Sometimes, its purpose is simply to lead us toward discovery. The ballet was not his home, but it was the door through which he stepped into his calling. In life, many of us must endure disciplines, roles, and tasks that seem foreign or burdensome. Yet often, hidden within them, is the seed of joy waiting to be uncovered.

The lesson for us is profound: do not dismiss an experience simply because it begins in discomfort. What you dislike may be the very forge in which your destiny is revealed. Seek the smile that cannot be erased, the joy that rises unbidden, even amidst struggle. That is the compass of the soul, pointing you toward your true calling. Do not fear beginnings that feel heavy—they may lead you to the place where your heart sings.

Therefore, let us act with courage and patience. When faced with paths that seem bitter, walk them still, for they may hold hidden gifts. Search not only for what you hate, but for what makes you smile despite the toil. And when you find that smile—cling to it, follow it, let it lead you into the life you were meant to live.

Carry forward Ansel Elgort’s wisdom: “I did 20 shows, and I couldn’t get the smile off my face.” May it remind you that joy is the truest sign of calling, and that even amidst dislike and hardship, your destiny may be waiting, radiant, upon the stage of your life.