selfhelp books are basically like the shampoo descriptions in the drugstore for women.
Your inner child is still crying? Love yourself – unconditionally!
Your parents were mean? You’re not a victim; you’re a survivor!
The idiots around you? Learn to set boundaries and communicate!
And then there’s the constant message: You’re flawed here, and there too. You’re not good enough yet. Here, you were hurt; there, you have unresolved emotions. Always the focus on the negative – but don’t worry, we can fix that!
It works just like shampoo advertising: Split ends? Never again! Damaged hair? Look how broken it is! You almost feel insulted while you just wanted to buy shampoo.
Self-help books often use the same principle – ruthlessly pointing out where you’re still struggling, where you could be “optimized.” But why are we so conditioned to constantly want to improve ourselves?
Because we’re afraid we’re not lovable as we are.
Yet, when you finally reach the point of accepting yourself as lovable, you lose interest in these books. Just like happy people rarely need romantic movies or novels – they know it’s fiction and wouldn’t trade their reality for it.
Of course, it can be beautiful to dive into other worlds, especially in fantasy stories. But often, we do it to distract ourselves, to escape our own lives instead of actively changing them.
As a child, I just lived. I was in the moment, always on the go, doing whatever I wanted. I wasn’t “connected” to myself in a spiritual sense – but I was present.
I didn’t read because I preferred to have real adventures. Why passively consume stories when I could write my own?
Reading was a competition for me, something you earned points for – but I was never truly interested. I wanted to play outside, make friends, and explore the world.
Later, reading became a coping mechanism. Especially during school, when life got more exhausting, I escaped into books and series to avoid being in my own reality. Isn’t that kind of sad?
First, it was fantasy books, then romantic stories, and finally self-help books. Because that’s where I found my negative thoughts mirrored: “I am not loved,” “I am not enough.”
So I searched for solutions – analyzing, overthinking, questioning everything. Essentially, these books just teach you how to overthink.
I don’t want to demonize books – quite the opposite, a part of me would love to write them. Writing is a beautiful form of expression, but honestly, I enjoy talking even more.
And maybe that’s the point: Instead of just talking or analyzing, I should start experiencing more again.
Do you know what I mean?
