Every year, I set a reading goal. Sometimes it’s 50 books, if it’s a postpartum year. Sometimes 75. A few ambitious years, even 100. For a long time, those goals felt motivating. They gave structure to my reading life and made me feel productive, disciplined, like I was “keeping up.” But this year, after nearly two decades of tracking books and chasing numbers, I found myself asking a different question:
What exactly am I rushing toward?
And honestly… who cares how many books I read in a year? There is no version of life where we get through every bestseller, every hidden gem, every recommendation, every “must-read” list. Our time is limited. And maybe accepting that is actually freeing.
Reading Isn’t Consumption — It’s Absorption ✨
This year, my reading habits have changed dramatically, especially with nonfiction. I’m no longer skimming just to finish. I’m not racing toward the next title. Instead, I’m reading slower. Highlighting more. Sitting with ideas longer instead of immediately moving on.
I keep highlighters tucked into different reading spots around the house — one in my nightstand, one in my office nook — because I’ve realized something important: Reading isn’t just about consuming information. It’s about absorbing it.
When you strip it back, we read for so many reasons:
- To learn
- To escape
- To relax
- To grow
- To feel understood
- To feel less alone
And sometimes a beautiful novel gives words to emotions you haven’t even fully named yet. That kind of reading can’t be rushed.
Are Reading Goals Helping… or Hurting? 🤔
I still believe in goals. Deeply. Goals create consistency. They help us prioritize what matters instead of drifting through life distracted. But I’ve started wondering if reading goals can quietly turn reading into a numbers game. Because once the focus becomes how many books you finish, you stop asking better questions:
- Did this book actually move me?
- Will I remember it in six months?
- Did it challenge me?
- Did I enjoy reading it?
I don’t want to end the year impressed by a number anymore. I want to look back and think: Yes, those books stayed with me.
The Permission to Stop Reading 🚪
This has been the biggest shift of all. I’ve fully given myself permission to stop reading books that aren’t working for me. Even if I’m 70% through. Even if I paid for it. Even if everyone else loves it. You do not owe a book your completion. Return it to the library. Donate it. Sell it. Hand it to a friend. Close it and move on. One of my strongest signals now that a book isn’t serving me is this: if I’d rather scroll my phone than pick it up during a free five-minute window, the book probably isn’t for me.
And that’s okay. There are hundreds of thousands of books in the world. More are published every single day. We are never going to “catch up.” So why force ourselves through books that drain us?
My Complicated Relationship With “Popcorn Thrillers” 🍿
I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with fast-paced thrillers and trendy book club picks. On one hand, books absolutely can exist purely for entertainment. Escapism matters. Relaxation matters. A fun reading experience still has value. But I also think there’s a slippery slope where reading becomes passive consumption — like scrolling, but in book form.
I used to fly through books just to fly through them. One thriller after another. One celebrity book club pick after another. And if I’m honest? A lot of them didn’t really leave anything behind. Not every book needs to change your life. But I do think some books should feed you a little.
Maybe Slower Reading Is Better Reading 🌿
So this year, I’m becoming a slower reader. Not a more impressive one. Not a more productive one.
Just a more honest one. Maybe I’ll read fewer books. But maybe I’ll remember more of them.
Maybe I’ll cycle through ten unfinished books before finding the one that truly captures my attention and fills my soul. And maybe that’s the whole point. Because what if reading isn’t something to complete and check off a list?
What if it’s meant to be experienced? And what if slowing down doesn’t actually mean reading less…
but reading better?