I did it y’all! I realize that reading one book for fun per month may not seem like a lot to many of you, but to this teacher/student/writer, one additional book per month was a HUGE accomplishment. So, this year I’m doing it again.
For whatever reason, I seem to have missed the boat on romance stories. Whenever my friends in high school were reading Sarah Dessen novels, I was reading Dickens. The closest I ever got to romance was reading Jane Eyre when I was 16, a novel I would later reject due to the problematic, abusive relationship between Jane and Rochester.
As a teacher, the end of the school year can be both completely hectic and ridiculously boring all at the same time. Filled with standardized tests that require me to sit in a room for hours on end, it seems like all of my time is both used and wasted all at once. Perhaps even worse than the eternal boredom of testing season, sitting in a silent room for hours on end tends to lead my brain to some weird places. Because I’m an enneagram 1 and am endlessly concerned with the issues of the world, without happy distractions my brain heads toward incredibly depressing places pretty quickly.
For most of my life, I have striven to be a strong woman. I wanted to be someone who could handle anything and everything for anyone and everyone. I wanted to be that person that you wanted by your side, whether you were going into battle or sitting down to a long meeting.
Strong women were praised. Strong women were the ideal. Strong women don’t need help. They can do everything without their perfectly manicured nails chipping or their mascara running.
As I have grown, I’ve discovered the problem. Strong women, as I perceived them, are a myth.