I thought I knew how to read.
You know; I can pronounce words, I can move through paragraphs, I can even look serious while doing it.
But understanding?
That’s where the trouble begins.

Recently, I picked up ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ by Charles Dickens.
I read it cover to cover…
and if you asked me what it was about, I’d just blink at you.
No explanation.
Nothing.
It felt like the book understood me more than I understood it.

But honestly, that’s one of the reasons I love reading.
It reminds me that ‘I’m not there yet’.
That reading isn’t just turning pages; it’s a skill, a habit, a muscle you train.
The more you read, the more you understand.
And the more you understand, the more you realize how little you know.

Still, I don’t think everything should be read just for the sake of it.
I read because I want to explore ideas I didn’t even know existed.
To see how other people think, how authors view the world, how minds different from mine make sense of life.
And of course, I read because I want to be smart.
I won’t hide that.

Somewhere along the way, this turned into an addiction.
But now, I’m looking for a new kind of difficulty.
Not the Dickens type, where the English feels like it came from another planet.
I want a contradiction difficulty.
Writing that challenges my beliefs.
Articles that push back on my assumptions.
Ideas that make me defend myself or change myself.

Because that’s the only way I grow.
That’s the only way I get smarter.
That’s the only way I help myself.

So yes, I thought I knew how to read. Turns out, I’m still learning. And honestly, I’m excited about that.