I like to say I am a dedicated reader, a Goodreads lover, and a book collector. I thrive on reading, and I set myself a new goal every year to read more books than the last. Let me tell you about my between-semester readings and maybe encourage you to pick one or all of them up. Â
I closed out 2025 with Hello Beautiful, and in many ways, it felt like the right kind of ending—quiet, emotional, and reflective. That novel sat with me in the way only stories about family, love, and unspoken wounds can. It reminded me that relationships are rarely simple, and that the people who love us most are also the ones who can hurt us the deepest. Finishing the year with Hello Beautiful felt like standing still for a moment, looking back, and acknowledging everything that shaped me before stepping forward.
I started 2026 in a completely different headspace. My first reads of the year were He Sees You When You’re Sleeping, and He Knows When You’re Awake—both intense, dark, and impossible to put down(it took me a day each). These books were nothing like what I ended the year with, but that contrast felt intentional. Where Hello Beautiful asked me to reflect, Alta Hensley’s books pulled me into something raw and unsettling. They challenged my comfort zone and reminded me that curiosity—even about darker themes—can be a form of self-awareness. Sometimes reading isn’t about escape; it’s about confronting the edges of what interests and unsettles you.
After that came Lights Out, which continued that emotionally charged momentum. This book carried intensity, tension, and vulnerability all at once. What stuck with me most wasn’t just the plot, but the way it explored trust, desire, and emotional risk. It made me think about how often we guard ourselves and how frightening—but necessary—it can be to let someone truly see you. In a subtle way, Lights Out reminded me that growth often comes from leaning into discomfort rather than avoiding it.
And currently, I’m reading How To Date Men When You Hate Men, and honestly, it feels like the most grounding book of them all. Funny, sharp, and painfully honest, it’s putting words to frustrations I didn’t even realize I’d been carrying. Roberson’s humor made space for reflection, and her essays remind me that it’s okay to question systems, expectations, and narratives we’re handed—especially when it comes to relationships and womanhood.
Together, these books feel like a snapshot of where I am entering 2026: reflective but curious, cautious but open, skeptical and yet hopeful. I’m taking their lessons with me—not just as stories I enjoyed, but as reminders that reading can mirror who we are and who we’re becoming.
I highly recommend these books, and, if you, the reader, have any thoughts or recommendations, please DM me. I hope you love and enjoy these books as much as I did.