Okay, real talk: when was the last time a book made you ugly-cry into your chardonnay at 2 AM? šāļø No judgment here, sis. Iāve been that girlāthe one frantically highlighting paragraphs like a maniac, whispering āYAAASā to fictional characters, and accidentally cancelling plans because one more chapter turned into an all-night soul-searching session. Letās dive into the page-turners that didnāt just entertain me⦠they rewired my brain. Buckle up, buttercup.
Letās kick things off with the book that made me quit my toxic job.
Remember that soul-sucking corporate gig I kept complaining about? Enter Untamed by Glennon Doyle. I picked it up thinking itād be another āgirlbossā manifesto. Wrong. This book sucker-punched me with lines like: āA woman becomes a responsible parent when she stops being an obedient daughter.ā š„ Cue me sitting cross-legged on my bathroom floor at midnight, reevaluating every life choice Iād ever made to please others. Doyle doesnāt just preach self-loveāshe forces you to confront why youāve been swallowing your truth like expired medication. Two days after finishing it, I handed in my resignation. No backup plan, just pure āIād rather eat ramen than fake-smile through another Zoom callā energy.
Next up: The novel that cured my dating app addiction
Yāall know I was that girl swiping right like it was my part-time job. Then I read Normal People by Sally Rooney. Not gonna lieāI bought it for the hype. But Connell and Marianneās messy, raw, painfully real relationship? It made me realize Iād been treating romance like a TikTok trend to binge and discard. Rooneyās genius isnāt in writing love stories; itās in exposing how we use relationships to avoid ourselves. That scene where Marianne says, āI donāt know whatās wrong with me. I donāt know why I canāt be like normal peopleā? Yeah, I screenshotted that and sent it to my therapist. š±š
The memoir that made me call my mom at 3 AM
Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner hit harder than my failed sourdough starter phase. As a Korean-American woman whoād been low-key avoiding her cultural identity, this book wrecked me. Zaunerās grief-stricken ramen recipes and guilt-tinged childhood memories forced me to confront my own ātoo Asian for America, too American for Asiaā limbo. I finished it at 2:53 AM and immediately facetimed my momāno pretext, just blurting out āIām sorry I never learned your kimchi recipe.ā We cried. She FedExed me a care package. Kimchi included. š¶ļøš
Plot twist: The āboringā classic that secretly slaps
Confession: I only bought Jane Eyre because the cover looked aesthetic. Imagine my shock when Bronteās 1847 heroine started spitting fire like, āI am no bird; and no net ensnares me.ā Janeās refusal to settle for Rochesterās sketchy proposals? Her āIād rather die alone than lose myselfā energy? Iconic. Suddenly, those TikTok āsoft lifeā influencers preaching complacency felt⦠small. Jane taught me that self-respect isnāt modernāitās timeless. Also, Mr. Rochester? OG gaslighter. šÆļøš©
The uncomfortable read that made me a better feminist
Hood Feminism by Mikki Kendall sat on my shelf for months. Too āacademic,ā I thought. Wrong again. Kendallās essays about how mainstream feminism fails marginalized women had me squirming in recognition. That chapter asking āWhy is ābody positivityā only for size 2 white women?ā forced me to audit my own activism. Iād been sharing Instagram infographics while ignoring food insecurity in my community. Brutal truth: Real feminism isnāt cute. Itās messy, inconvenient, and requires putting down the latte to fight for someone elseās survival. āā
Final boss level: The sci-fi that healed my quarter-life crisis
Look, I donāt ādoā aliens. But The Space Between Worlds by Micaiah Johnson? Chefās kiss. This multiverse thriller stars Cara, a biracial woman who dies in most dimensions. Her survival depends on staying invisibleāuntil she rebels. The line āThe richest people never have doppelgangers. The multiverse hates the poorā shook me. Suddenly, my anxiety about āgetting aheadā felt⦠manufactured. If infinite versions of me exist, why obsess over one timelineās promotions? Mind. Blown. šŖš„
So hereās my hot take: Life-changing books arenāt about fancy vocabulary or Instagrammable quotes. Theyāre the ones that grab your shoulders mid-existential spiral and whisper: āYouāve been lying to yourself. Hereās the mirror.ā The magic happens when youāre brave enough to look.