This is me but I didn't figure it out until I was 41. I know the exact moment the lightbulb went off. When I was a teenager, I spent countless hours working on cars. All of my cars were junk, combined with cars generally being trash in the 70s and 80s provided lots of grease monkey opportunity. For my first car, I was given a '79 Cutlass with a bad motor and transmission. Dad bought me a motor and transmission from an '82 Caprice, set it on the garage floor and said "you figure out how to get that in there, you've got a car." And off I went. I loved working on stuff.
Youtube came along and ruined me. I had to do everything perfectly to spec, and I expected to do it in the amount of time listed in the manual (despite lots of beer consumption getting in the way). I would get furious.
When I was 41, I was putting a water pump on my fun car. 1.5 hour job, I'm two hours in, cursing the car, cursing the video, parts falling into panels to never be seen again, the whole 9 yards. And this is a pretty simple repair.
The light bulb went off. I realized I used to enjoy doing this stuff when I didn't have a video, or usually even a manual. If I'm not going to like it, why I am doing it? Who cares how long it takes - this isn't even my daily driver!
I do a lot of it again, and I'm enjoying it. If it's something that needs to be done now, I pay someone to do it. If it can wait, I don't care how long it takes me. (irrigation system excluded - I'm done with that POS, someone else can do it)
The wife is wondering how long that exhaust system is going to sit in the empty garage stall. I'll get it done someday.