A reader is born. That’s how I like to think of it. Because, really, that’s what happened. I was born a reader, but it wasn’t always easy. In fact, up until 4th grade, I hated school because I couldn’t read. But then something amazing happened: I learned to read and my world opened up. In large part because my parents refused to give up on me and found the a great school with a special education program that fit my needs, a rare occurrence back then.
So, I started reading and I haven’t stopped since. Books have been my constant companions, my teachers, my friends. They’ve helped me through tough times and celebrated with me in the good times. They’ve showed me new worlds and introduced me to new ideas. In short, books have made me who I am today.
The first time I recall enjoying books was in a charged competitive game with one of my classmates to see who could read the most books in a year. I don’t recall who won or how many we read but in that year I went from barely having finished a single long form book to dozens.
The second time I recall a manic thirst for books was sophomore at Northeastern when I think academics was “turned on” for me, I had some money(First company, side hustle and big kid job at Kiss). Every paycheck, walked to the NU bookstore to pick the next biography/science book that was inspired by one of my classes to learn more.
Now, as an adult, I am passionate about reading and continue to devour books at every opportunity. I believe that books have the power to change lives, and I am so grateful that I finally found my love of reading. It’s been quite a journey, but it’s one that I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.
Do you have a similar story? I’d love to hear about it in the comments! 🙂