Feel It, Flow With It, Grow Through It: Why It’s Never Too Late to Reclaim Your Talent

An explosion of colour, emotion, and memory. Painted by Parul Bhatia showcasing how talent lives in what we feel, not just what we do

Exploring how skill, discipline, and self-awareness shape the journey to excellence

Introduction: More Than a Label

As a parent, I’m often swept up in the energy of weekend sports, school concerts, and competitions. I watch children light up as they showcase their talents and be cheered on by proud faces and standing ovations. We praise their effort, their flair, their growth.

In the professional world, talent doesn’t always take centre stage, it reveals itself in quieter, more practical moments. Like when someone’s eyes light up as they describe a solution no one else had thought of. There’s a spark in their voice, a quiet pride in how they improved a process, saved costs, or solved a long-standing issue. Is that their talent? I believe it is. But how is it recognised? How is it captured, nurtured, or even acknowledged when there’s no applause, no stage, no standing ovation? There’s no applause. No spotlight. And yet, it’s just as worthy.

I’ve often wondered: am I gifted, or simply talented? I lean toward the latter. Talent, to me, has always been something nurtured shaped by discipline, energy, and relentless curiosity. Giftedness, on the other hand, often feels like something bestowed. 

As a mother, I feel incredibly fortunate to watch my child engage with music not just as a hobby, but as a part of himself, which he enjoys. Still, I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s a “gift.” It’s a talent, one that’s been nurtured through practice, exposure, and encouragement. The way he holds the instrument, listens to instruction, and performs it’s been taught. Guided. Shaped. Other children, however, seem to pick things up instinctively. Whether it’s rhythm, coordination, or spatial awareness, they just get it. That, to me, is giftedness. It’s the same with sport. Some people are born to sprint. Others find rhythm in long-distance. Some have a natural feel for water, becoming graceful swimmers with seemingly no effort. And others fumble at first, but with time, emerge as strong, capable performers. 

Growing up, giftedness wasn’t something we talked about. You were either strong or weak in a subject, and success was measured by how closely you aligned with traditional careers like medicine, dentistry, law, or business. There wasn’t much space for nuance. No one asked what lit you up inside only what would secure a stable future.

I chose Chemistry and Literature as my final subjects at school. People often asked, “What an odd combination, what are you going to do with that?” But I’m glad I chose them not because they were expected, but because they made sense to me. They felt right.

I found joy in solving problems, in understanding how things worked and just as much joy in language, imagination, and emotion. Literature gave me a way to explore humanity; chemistry gave me a way to decode it.

Was I gifted? Absolutely not. I wasn’t the standout student. I had to work hard, stay consistent, and keep proving myself. But I loved learning, and I wanted to keep going always curious about what was next, and what more I could discover.

But here’s what I’ve come to believe: something you enjoy, when pursued consistently, becomes talent.

Talent, for me, was forged in repetition. In showing up, day after day, not just to get through the work but to understand it. Over time, that combination of effort and genuine interest turned into ability. And ability, sharpened by discipline, became strength.

Late Bloomers, Lifelong Learning, and the Science of Talent

We often expect talent to roar in early and loudly. But in many cases, it arrives softly built over time through exposure, reflection, and repetition.

Some people find their stride in their thirties. Others reinvent themselves in their fifties. And some never get the right encouragement to realise what they’re capable of. Being a late bloomer doesn’t mean you’re less talented it simply means you arrived through a different door.

Neuroscience supports this view. Talent isn’t just about youth or early mastery it’s about how our brains adapt, connect, and store learning over time. The amygdala attaches emotional weight to our experiences, helping us remember what excites or challenges us. The hippocampus consolidates these experiences into long-term memory, especially when reinforced through repetition and a clear sense of purpose. Meanwhile, the neocortex - our centre for logic, strategy, and decision-making translates those stored experiences into action, innovation, and practical skill.

Our brains are made up of approximately 100 billion nerve cells, or neurons. These neurons form connections to share information. When we repeat certain behaviours, thoughts, or emotional responses, those connections strengthen, forming recognizable patterns. Conversely, unused pathways are gradually pruned away a process known as neuroplasticity. This means our brains are constantly reshaping themselves based on what we do, what we think, and what we feel.

When we repeatedly engage in the same patterns of thought or emotion, our brains build what are essentially “data highways”, a living process reinforcing those mental habits. That’s why talent, like any capacity, isn’t fixed its deepened through consistency, emotional connection, and deliberate effort. It can be shaped, strengthened, and redefined at any age.

And maybe that’s the real conversation: not when talent shows up, but how we find it and how we choose to nurture it, at every age, in every environment. It’s available to all of us, not just the early risers.

Talent Isn’t Enough: How Knowledge, Skill, and Strength Align

We often use words like knowledge, talent, skill, and strength interchangeably but they’re not the same.

Knowledge is what you know facts, information, theory.

Skill is what you can do built through training, repetition, feedback and experience.

Talent is your natural pattern of thought, feeling, or behaviour what comes easily, what energises you, what feels intuitive. Talent isn’t a magical spark, it’s a process. A muscle developed through deliberate, consistent effort. Whether you’re learning to swim, pick up a violin, or lead a team at work, talent grows through structured repetition, feedback, and a deep desire to improve. It begins with form. For example, in swimming, you focus on how to hold your body, regulate your breath, and move through resistance. In music, your posture, breathing, and timing determine the quality of sound.

And strength? That’s when you consistently apply your talent backed by knowledge and skill to produce outcomes with impact, reliability, and energy. It’s when you are, what you know, and how you work together in alignment. Over time, the awkwardness becomes automatic. What once required conscious effort begins to flow. Because talent, when disciplined, creates rhythm. And it’s not just about learning it’s about applying that learning with intention, in ways that amplify your strengths.

Losing Sight: How Talent Fades in the Workplace?

In schools, we label some students “gifted.” We offer enrichment programs and tailored learning. But in the workplace, there’s no “advanced stream.” No formal recognition of potential beyond performance metrics.

I don’t know about you, but the words gifted and talented rarely come up in professional life. The focus tends to shift often rapidly to success, achievement, and hierarchy. Where are you on the org chart? What’s your title? How much do you earn?

There’s a monetary component to how talent is perceived. And often, it’s not really about potential it’s about visibility.

As Marcus Buckingham and Donald O. Clifton wrote in Now, Discover Your Strengths:

“Unfortunately, most of us have little sense of our talents and strengths, much less the ability to build our lives around them. Instead, guided by our parents, by our teachers, by our managers, and by psychology’s fascination with pathology, we become experts in our weaknesses and spend our lives trying to repair these flaws, while our strengths lie dormant and neglected.”

And that’s the truth for many professionals. They grow into roles that don’t reflect their true talents because no one noticed, or because they were too busy fixing what they were told was broken than building on what we do best. We focus on gaps instead of gifts.

And the longer we stay in an organisation, the easier it is to become entrenched falling into routines, fitting into roles, and losing visibility of our true capabilities. We become good at our job but forget what makes us excellent. Talent fades when strengths go unused.

And let’s be honest: perceived talent can come with ego. You can be brilliant and unbearable at the same time.

But ego is complex. Sometimes it whispers that you’re not good enough. Other times, it shouts so loudly that you start believing you’re too good to grow. Either way, it can disconnect you from reality, from feedback, and from others.

Cultivating Talent: From Self-Awareness to Application

To cultivate talent, we need to move from passive awareness to active application. That starts by asking ourselves:

• Are my strengths being used every day - or simply assumed?

• What knowledge have I gained - from others, or through reflection - that I’m actually putting into practice?

• Am I using my natural abilities to solve real problems, or just going through the motions?

It’s also about how you see yourself in what others see in you and how you choose to build from there. Reputation isn’t built through self-promotion. It’s built through consistency, kindness, and the quiet work of getting better when no one is watching.

Professional development reviews are often focused on outcomes, KPIs, or areas for improvement but they rarely ask: “What are you naturally good at, and how are you using that?”

Talents - those innate patterns of thought, feeling, or behaviour often go unnoticed unless they directly align with role expectations. And even when they are recognised, if they’re not matched with the right role, they can stagnate. But when talent is both identified and placed where it fits, it becomes a powerful foundation for growth. Whether it’s problem-solving, empathy, communication, or creativity, these raw traits can evolve into high-impact skills through the right combination of role fit, training, practice, and meaningful feedback.

For instance, someone with natural problem-solving ability might evolve into a strong analytical thinker able to interpret data, streamline processes, or investigate complex issues. A person with a gift for communication may develop into a skilled presenter, negotiator, or relationship builder. Creative thinkers often bring innovation to campaign development, design, or system improvement. And those with leadership potential can be nurtured into team managers, strategic planners, or effective mentors. The key is recognizing these natural inclinations early and creating space to turn them into practical, high-impact strengths.

Finally, leadership plays a critical role in whether talent fades or flourishes. Great leaders act like talent spotters within your existing environment they observe, listen, and often recognise potential before you fully see it in yourself. But their influence is largely internal: they create opportunities within your team or organisation, advocate for your growth, and help you stretch beyond your current scope.

Mentors, on the other hand, typically sit outside your immediate environment. They bring external perspective, unfiltered guidance, and often ask the kinds of questions that nudge you toward new directions and fish out your innage gifts. A good mentor sees your strengths through a wider lens offering encouragement, challenge, and reflection that isn’t tied to hierarchy or performance reviews.

Strong leaders and mentors do four things particularly well:

1. Advocate for potential – Leaders speak up for you in rooms you’re not in; mentors champion your growth beyond the system.

2. Create safe challenges – They encourage you to try, explore, and stretch without fear of getting it wrong.

3. Spot what’s unspoken – They notice patterns and ask thoughtful questions like: What energises you? What do others find hard that comes easily to you?

4. Provide pathways to grow – Whether through projects, feedback loops, or mentoring programs, they create opportunities that align with your strengths regardless of title or tenure.

When reviews focus on recognising and activating these natural patterns through projects, mentoring, or targeted development they stop being about fixing people. Instead, they become about building careers rooted in what people already do best.

Real talent the kind that lasts, the kind that uplifts is grounded in humility. It’s not about shrinking yourself but about knowing that excellence is never a finished product. That how others experience your work, your presence, and your leadership matters just as much as what you’re capable of on paper.

Closing Thoughts

So are you gifted? Talented? Or something in between? 

If you were told you were gifted as a child, do you still carry that label in your adult life? And if you weren’t, does that mean you missed the window or have you just taken the scenic route? Giftedness might appear like a spark, something innate, striking or immediate.  Talent is different. It’s mature. It’s the fire you build around that spark. The way you stroke it with care, patience, and repetition. Both can shape a life. But neither tells the full story without practice, humility, and people who believe in what you’ve yet to see in yourself.

Talent is more than performance. It’s a feeling. A pull. Like an internal impulse that dominates decision-making before logic even kicks in. It forms through the brain’s natural wiring those instinctive connections that shape how we respond, create, and thrive. That’s why talent is so hard to define. It doesn’t always show up in a résumé or a job description it lives in our reactions, our instincts, our ease.

To truly understand our talent, we need to look at ourselves differently. We need to monitor our spontaneity how we naturally react in moments of challenge or uncertainty. We need to recognise our yearnings because we always return to our preferences. The things we’re drawn to. The things we do with energy, even when we’re tired. The things we’re gifted to do, even if we’ve never been formally taught.

And here’s the truth: it’s never too late to feel it. To explore something new. When it feels good, when it flows embrace it. Follow the energy.

When we bring awareness to those patterns and pair them with practice and purpose, that’s when talent becomes strength. That’s the real work: uncovering your next talent, waiting to be realised.

Because the real gift isn’t the talent itself - it’s where it takes you.