I’ve always loved reading. I started at an especially young age, and, like many avid young readers, I devoured every book within reach. There were many times in my early youth where I would read several books at one time, to the point where the storylines would become intertwined and get tangled in my mind. I loved it. I found so much solace and enjoyment in reading that literature became an imperative aspect of my personal identity.  

Unfortunately, also like many childhood bookworms, my love affair with reading dwindled with age. While I’d love to place all of the blame on the overwhelming academic demands of the magnet program, I surely could have made more time to read over the last couple of years, and I simply did not. It got to the point that merely opening a book that wasn’t assigned reading from school became a daunting and seemingly impossible task. 

Like many people, I learned a lot about myself over the course of 2020. I learned that I’m actually an introvert. I learned that I really like waking up early and making oatmeal with brown sugar. I learned how difficult it truly is to maintain healthy boundaries, and I learned that I really, really missed reading. I missed the feeling of being so entranced with a story that you simply can’t put your book down. So, in true new year’s fashion, I made a vow for 2021: I was going to start reading again. 

As I said, I grew to be very intimidated by leisurely reading. After years of forced reading schedules and reading checks, it felt so wrong to be able to pick up any book that caught my eye and move through it at my own pace. I felt like a fraud, like a wannabe academic. I felt like I had absolutely no idea where to start. I knew that the only way I would keep good on my promise to myself was to just get started. 

I opened the DeKalb County Public Library website and requested a few books I had either been recommended by friends or saw circulating through fiction lovers on TikTok, who affectionately refer to their community as ‘BookTok’. I reached out to my closest friends to see what they were reading (although more often than not, they admitted that they too had regretfully abandoned their love of reading to pursue other obligations). I quickly found myself with a very sizable reading list. 

Although this is not the most climactic story, I suppose it does serve as a small lesson of sorts. As a recovering master procrastinator, I can honestly say that I didn’t entirely plan on keeping my resolution to myself. However, I am proud to say that I have, so far, kept my promise to myself (I read two books in January—I’m Thinking of Ending Things and The Night Circus) and I already find myself questioning why I ever stopped reading the first place. Yes, life is hectic and busy and stressful, but it’s never going to get any better if you stop prioritizing the things that bring you joy.