Confession

I have a confession…. I secretly love “self-help” books.

When I was in college, my roommates stacked up all of the books I owned about marriage or dating. It was a little embarrassing.

Now that I am married, I still enjoy books about improving your marriage, but my tastes have diversified. Currently the “self-help” books I am reading include:

• Emotional Intelligence 2.0
• Nice Girls Don’t Get the Corner Office 101: Unconscious Mistakes Women Make to Sabotage Their Careers
• Fierce Conversations: Achieving Success at Work & in Life, One Conversation at a Time
• How to Never Look Fat Again: Over 1,000 Ways to Dress Thinner—Without Dieting

I enjoy reading these books because they uplift me, and help me want to be better—A better wife, better friend, better employee, better Sunday School Teacher, etc.

But it’s kind of embarrassing how much time I spend thinking, talking, and planning about how to improve myself, or “realizations” I have into the human psyche. My.poor.husband. (He is such a sweetheart for patiently listening to me, and DESERVES A MEDAL!)

I worry about sharing these thoughts with others, lest they think I am comparing them to my proverbial yardstick of progress. I don’t. How can you compare apples and oranges? We are all trying to be the best we can be—my guilty pleasure just includes reading self-help books!