For the past few years, I’ve shared the books I’ve read on Instagram. I save them in a highlight, occasionally offering commentary on the book or mentioning who it would most benefit. Often, I get comments on how much I read in response.
I remember a reading competition in elementary school (Did they combine reading with a competition? You know I was there.) that I won by reading over 100 books. It shocked people and I felt judged. Either it seemed they did not believe I had read the books or it was impossible that I could have read them or didn’t I simply have something better to do?
It’s entirely possible that the commenters meant nothing besides congratulations and a teeny bit of shock. But we pick up shame and wear it as an undergarment, hidden under other clothes, from a young age and that’s exactly what I did. I’ve always felt a teeny bit embarrassed at how much I read.
I do a good job shrugging it off now most of the time. I love to read. I read quickly. I choose to read over doing other things. This habit has been a great benefit for seminary which comes with a part-time job of reading.
