I did not grow up as a reader. I was a movie person. Religiously.
Psychological thrillers. Romance movies. Weekend binges where I’d watch four films a day and call it a lifestyle choice. Movies were my escape. My comfort. My emotional support system.
Until one day, they betrayed me.
Nothing hit anymore. I scrolled endlessly through recommendations, lists, suggestions from people who clearly meant well, and felt absolutely nothing. No excitement. No anticipation. Just vibes flatlined. Which felt personal. So I stopped. For a month or two, I lived in a tragic little content drought, opening apps, closing them, and staring at my screen like it owed me an apology.
Then, very casually, I made a decision that changed everything.
What if I read a psychological thriller instead?
No grand plan. No reader transformation montage. Just curiosity.
That’s how I picked up Then She Was Gone. My first thriller. And after that, there was no recovery. One book became two, two became many, and somewhere in the middle, romance slipped in quietly and then absolutely refused to leave.
My first romance book was The Law of Attraction by Laura Carter. I remember thinking, wait. This is delightful. Cozy. Funny. Dangerous in the best way. It felt like watching Suits, but warmer. Softer. Like a rom-com that knows exactly what it’s doing. I finished it smiling, which was unsettling and also addictive.
So naturally, I kept going.
At first, I was a sensible romance reader. I chose light, funny, comforting books. Safe stories. Predictable joy. I thought I was in control.
And then I discovered tropes.
This was my oh. This explains everything moment.
Suddenly, I wasn’t choosing books. I was choosing emotional outcomes. I started with comfort, drifted into yearning, flirted with angst, and somehow ended up deep inside dark romance, wondering how exactly I got here and why I was enjoying it so much.
Which is funny, because in real life I am very bubbly. Very elder-sister energy. Advice-giver. Snack-provider. Responsible-ish.
On paper, though, I crave emotional devastation and men who are walking red flags with excellent character development.
I do not interrogate this. I accept it.
I also like to pretend I am an organised reader. I make TBRs. I plan reading months. I schedule books like a functioning adult. But every night, under the blanket with my tea and Kindle, I abandon all structure and choose based purely on feelings. Planning exists. Discipline does not.
I am also a multiple-books-at-once reader.
An audiobook for walks.
A physical book for bedtime, because holding a book feels sacred.
Several Kindle books rotating based on mood, patience, and my current tolerance for emotional pain.
If a book starts dragging, I stop. I pause. I ghost it. Maybe I’ll return. Maybe I won’t. No guilt. I read for pleasure, not endurance. Break my heart, stress me out, ruin me temporarily. Just don’t leave me emotionally unsatisfied.
I started sharing my reading journey because stories spill out of me. I talked about movies like this once. Now it’s books. The problem is, I do not have reader friends. And my non-reader friends are wonderful, but they did not consent to intense conversations about fictional men and their deeply concerning life choices.
So I made my own space.
I work in marketing. I love writing. I love creating content, collages, journals, and tiny aesthetic worlds. This blog is all of that combined. Unfiltered. Unapologetic. Dramatic, but accurate.
If you’re here, I want it to feel like a late-night conversation with another reader. Someone who reads too late, abandons books mid-way, obsesses shamelessly, and understands that stories matter more than we like to admit.
If any of this feels uncomfortably familiar, tell me.
What time do you read until you regret it?
Which trope currently has you emotionally compromised?
Which book has altered your brain chemistry recently?
And if you want to stay, head over to my romance reviews. That’s where I am honest, dramatic, and absolutely incapable of shutting up.
With love,
Miss A 💋
If you enjoyed this little peek into my reading journey, checkout these posts where I talk more about my relationship with books and how they became my favorite escape:
Books: My Favourite Way to Avoid Reality
Books for Non-Readers: How to Start Reading Without Forcing
Happy Reading!