5 Unexpected Benefits of Being a Reader

How reading changes the way you think and see things

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When I was a teenager, I’d listen to my late Uncle speak simply because I was impressed and slightly envious of his eloquence.

I have seen people fumble big words because they confuse them with pedantry.

Nothing wrong with that except perhaps for being a bit obvious that they’re showing off.

For instance, let’s take a railway station during the morning commute.

I’d say: The railway station is busy.

Eloquently put, it’d be: The railway station hums with life as people pass through in every direction.

Insufferably verbose would be: The railway station is, as anticipated, a conspicuously teeming nexus of locomotiry commotion and human transit.

1. I tend to notice these things because I am at heart a reader and an observer.

After my uncle passed away, I met a former high school English teacher who encouraged me to try my hand at writing. I could spend hours just listening to her speak because of how eloquently she phrases her sentences.

It’s so refreshing to hear in this world of emojis, memes, and homogenized content steeped overnight in AI with a side serving of slop — unlived experiences masquerading as expression.

2. When I read, words and ideas for further mulling over get automatically tucked away.

I’ll let you in on a secret: I translated my folkloric knowledge into stories that drew in hundreds of thousands of views on a different platform before it slammed its doors.

3. I am not trying to generalize here, but my kids don’t share my love for reading fiction or blogging. When they were much younger, I’d read to them, and we’d have many a fun time. But as they grew, they fell more in love with numbers than creative pursuits.

Their bookshelf, filled with Star Wars novels and such, is relegated to the storage room, gathering dust.

They write, but according to the school rubric, with grades in mind. Otherwise, it’s a chore. And if it is not a book about the stock market, crypto, programming, or practical applications, then it doesn’t register.

There’s a lot of nostalgia when I look back, and writing this gives me glimpses into older versions of myself. I gave them the foundation, but I am still on my journey, while their tracks diverged as they developed different interests and hobbies.

So, for me, it is like an old film running at high speed, which I pause at specific moments that I’d like to return to, dwell within, and savor through my writing.

4. While on a date, I casually mentioned that I blog. What about, they asked. Self-reflections, I answered. They thought for a moment and then asked me point-blank whether I was going to write about this date or about him, specifically. I asked him if that would be a problem. And he said, yes, it would be.

There was no second date.

I write reflections about my life. Everything became fodder for a blog. I think the problem is that those dates may or may not like what I thought or felt about them, unless I write only the nicest things, which I cannot.

There is a fine line between being true to yourself and people pleasing when you blog.

5. Depending on whether you see it as a good thing or a bad thing, I seem to be comfortable with and spend a lot of time with my thoughts.

Some may say I am distracted or lost in my own world.

My therapist says she appreciates how I utilize my thought process to arrive at informed decisions, at least some of the time.

Reading a lot has become part of how I think.

It has also made me less caught up in how others see me and how I think I should be seen.

It’s also made me prefer simple, to-the-point words when expressing myself.

Have you ever caught yourself thinking differently because of a book?

More from Yana:

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