26/09/2026
I used to devour books.
As a child, teenager, student and Mum, books were a huge part of my life. They brought enjoyment and escapism, helped me learn, introduced me to other people, places and cultures, and gave me a way to see the world differently. I even studied literature when I first went to university.
But somewhere along the way, I completely fell out of love with reading fiction.
For quite a few years, I just couldn’t face picking up a book for fun. If I did, I’d read a few paragraphs and fall asleep, or find my mind wandering, only to realise I hadn’t taken any of it in.
Looking back, I understand why.
I was stressed, overwhelmed, trying to do too much and, if I’m honest, probably a little out of kilter with what I really needed. Something that had always brought me pleasure had become something I couldn’t even switch off enough to enjoy.
The good news is that I’ve recently rediscovered the joy of reading.
A little book club at work has definitely helped to get me started again. But I think what has really enabled me to read for pleasure again is something much bigger.
Feeling settled. More aligned. Having a sense of purpose. Feeling valued. Less stress and more peace.
And suddenly, I can sit down with a book and disappear into it again.
It’s made me think about the things we enjoy and how easy it can be to lose touch with them when life gets busy or stressful.
Sometimes we tell ourselves we’re just too busy. Sometimes we stop making time for the things that used to make us feel good because there always seems to be something more important to do.
But I wonder whether it’s worth noticing when those things start to disappear altogether.
If you stop wanting to see friends, go outside, exercise, read, listen to music, cook, create, laugh or do whatever it is that normally brings you a bit of joy, perhaps it’s worth asking yourself what’s going on underneath that.
It doesn’t necessarily mean something is wrong. Life changes, interests change and sometimes we simply move on from things.
But perhaps sometimes these changes are little clues that we’re stressed, overwhelmed, exhausted or just not quite where we want to be.
For me, getting my love of reading back feels like a small thing.
But actually, I think it represents something much bigger.
It feels like getting a little piece of myself back.
And perhaps there’s something in that for all of us. Making space for the things we enjoy isn’t frivolous or a waste of time. Sometimes those little things are part of what keeps us well.
So, I’m reading again. And I’m really enjoying it.
📚❤️
💭 Have you ever stopped doing something you loved when life got stressful, and then found your way back to it?
P.S. If you’re reading anything good do let me know in the comments 🙏🏼