My Relationship with Reading | The Ups and Downs of Being a Bibliophile

When reading becomes lackluster, you can never fully submerged into the suspension of disbelief among the page. 

     Your eyes drift and detached from the words that merely drift in and out of your ears. 

uninspired or uninspiring.

uncaring

detached

Sometimes my relationship with reading can be nonexistent, in any capacity. I can sometimes go weeks, even months, without reading a book.

I guess this on-again/off-again relationship with reading was nurtured due to school and essentially being forced-fed literature, thus fostering a relationship out of duty over a relationship of genuine interest. Honestly, a bad curriculum or a teacher that failed to encourage a connection between their students and literature practically guarantees a child will face a uphill battle in developing any interest in reading.

— But it is up to the child, whether that relationship will remain cold and toxic or be filled with warmth and healthy. As my relationship with reading continues to grow, even though no relationship is perfect; it's important to keep making an effort. 

While attending high school, I enrolled in AP classes where reading was all we did to prepare for the exam, and the last thing I wanted to do was to read even more. 🙃  However, I would be great remiss to fail to mention the importance of fostering a love for reading by oneself. I took it upon myself to read more and connect with literature in my time frame. Which ended up leading me to becoming a writer/journalist and graduating with a minor in English.

 
In fact, this train of thought has been on my mind since I journaled on October 14th, 2018, an excerpt from that passage can be found below:

  Self-discovery   

I am going to get my love of reading back if it kills me. I am on a journey of self discovery with music right by my side. Pandora and YouTube are providing me with a soundtrack to my life.

Reading used to be my escape. I will escape to far away lands through books… then tragedy struck. 

School used to be a place where you will learn how to think, but now it is heavily monitor to get the best test scores. We are taught what to think. We, students, are never given the simple opportunity to interpret the data for what we think it trying to convey.

Reading is like that. Teachers put words in our mouths to a inch of our lives. “The jacket was blue” the author says. The teacher with her liberal arts education “thinks”(Teachers are brainwashed too.) it meant his depression befall him. 

 Before we would psychoanalyze a book, reading was joyful. It was relaxing. 

But I determine to love books and reading again before a corporation, like public education snuffed it out of me light a candle. 

The moral of this story is: just keep reading!