A Year of Lessons and Letting Go
This year has taught me a lot. Not just because of my studies, but about myself — my habits, my hobbies, and where I find joy.
Over the past year, I’ve worked through burnout, weathered life’s curveballs, and felt like I’d lost pieces of who I was. But as I sit in my office writing this, I can finally say that the person I’ve become is walking into 2026 with intention.
And part of that intention started with reclaiming something that once brought me pure joy: reading.
Reclaiming my Reading Goal
In May, I decided to reclaim my reading life. I lowered my goal from 96 books to 36 — a number that felt achievable rather than punishing — and something shifted.
Once I made that change, everything started to feel lighter.
Now, just two months before year’s end, I’m four books away from completing that goal. I’ve stopped racing through pages just to meet a number and started reading because I want to. My love of reading never died, but my intention had faded.
From Pressure to Presence
Once I removed the pressure to “read all the things” or keep up with what looked good on social media, the joy returned. Suddenly, reading wasn’t a checklist anymore—it was a conversation with myself. I stopped chasing trends and started chasing feelings.
That’s when the real question hit me.
I asked myself: What do I actually want when I sit down with a book? Do I want to read something because everyone else is talking about it? Or because I want to get lost in a world that lingers long after I close the cover?
It’s always been the latter.
The Spark I'd Been Missing
Still, something was missing. I was reading again, yes—but I wanted to feel inspired. The turning point came during my Creative Writing Workshop this semester, when my professor said something that’s stayed with me:
“I believe a short story should always leave the reader feeling haunted.”
— Professor Kianna Greene, University of Central Florida
It was a small comment, but it changed everything. That one line reframed how I think about stories. For my presentation, I chose “The Dune” by Stephen King — a short story that gave me goosebumps the second time I read it. Listening to the audiobook only deepened my appreciation for the craft and cadence of storytelling.
Haunted (In the Best Way)
Through that class, I rediscovered what it means to read like a writer. I began noticing the techniques authors use to pull readers into their worlds — the rhythm of a sentence, the silence between beats, the emotion that lingers long after the last line.
But more than that, it gave me permission to explore.
It also opened my eyes to genres I once avoided: short fiction, literary stories, and quiet narratives that haunt for their honesty rather than their horror.
If you’d told me that a year ago, I would’ve rolled my eyes.
Kate from last year would’ve laughed at that. This Kate is intrigued.
Rediscovering What I Loved About Reading
Somewhere between burnout and rediscovery, I realized that reading isn’t performative. It’s not about what anyone else thinks of my TBR or how many books I log in a year.
Reading is about connection — to stories, to characters, to myself. It’s curling up with a middle-grade fantasy that makes me feel ten again, or rereading a classic with new eyes. It’s discovering a voice that feels like coming home.
Somewhere along the way, I realized that the way I read was also the way I lived.
Reading Isn't a Performance
Taking the time to reflect over the past few months has reminded me that I don’t owe anyone an explanation for what I read or why I love it. I’m allowed to read slowly. To abandon a book that isn’t working for me. To savor sentences. To sit in silence.
Reading isn’t a performance. It’s a practice in presence.
My Plan for Reading in 2026
Here’s what reading with intention looks like for me heading into 2026:
- Scale back my ARC reading to focus on long-term author relationships
- Prioritize backlist books that have been living on my TBR
- Read at least one middle-grade book a month
- Start my adventure exploring all of Stephen King’s work
- Revisit “required reading” from my school years with fresh eyes
- Approach literary fiction and short stories with curiosity, not obligation
Whether I’m diving into something new or rediscovering an old favorite, I’ll be doing it with intention.
This year became about more than books—it became about rediscovering balance.
Closing Thoughts: Reading with Intention
As I move into a new reading year, I’m not chasing numbers or trends — I’m chasing meaning.
Reading with intention isn’t about restriction. It’s about alignment. It’s choosing books that make me think, stories that make me feel, and words that remind me why I fell in love with reading in the first place.
