WHY FICTION?

I know saying “reading changed my life” sounds dramatic, but I promise—that’s exactly how it felt.

Imagine being the top-tier, high-achieving, perfection-seeking, full-time workaholic—yeah, that was me. Or… maybe it still is? The only difference now? I finally have a hobby. A real one. Something that pulls me out of the cycle of letting work consume every corner of my life. And let’s be honest—ministry isn’t your average 9–5. It’s more like 24/7. It’s purpose-driven, rewarding, and often life-changing. Ministry gives so much meaning. You watch lives transform. You walk people through their most vulnerable and pivotal moments. Over time, it’s easy to get stuck in a cycle of never stepping away—and for good reason. But somewhere along the way, I had to ask myself: Is there anything outside work I do just for fun? Not for purpose. Not for people. Not for progress. Just for the joy of it?

Turns out… that question was the start of something really beautiful.

I’ll never forget one of the first questions my therapist ever asked me: “So… what do you do for fun?”

Without skipping a beat, I looked her dead in the eye and said with full conviction,“Work. I love my job—it’s so fun for me.”

She smiled and nodded. “That’s great. It’s important to love what you do. But what about when you’re not working?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Oh, that’s easy. I love spending time with my husband and my friends!”

Again, she smiled, gently. “That’s wonderful. Community is so important. But what about something that’s just for you? Something you do because you enjoy it—not because it serves someone else?”

I paused. My brain did a full scan. Shop? Vacation? Drink coffee? I felt the tension rise in my chest as I realized I was coming up blank. I mean… does casually browsing Rent the Runway count? Or a once-a-year vacation? I looked back at her and, for the first time in the session, quietly admitted: “I don’t think I have any actual hobbies.”

She gave me a sincere look and simply asked, “And why do you think that is?”

So why didn’t I have any hobbies at the ripe young age of 29? Simple: I was a workaholic. (We’ll unpack all the deeper layers of that in the faith section, don’t worry.) But for the sake of this post, here’s the short version: I worked—all the time.

When I wasn’t physically at work, I was at home, working on work. Sometimes I was even “hanging out” with friends… just to talk about work. It started when I was 20 and never really stopped. Hustle culture met ministry culture, and I was applauded for being “all in.” Spoiler: I was all in—so far in that I never stopped to consider anything else. Eventually, this rhythm (or lack thereof) led me straight into what I call my workaholic rock bottom. And when I say I crashed… I mean I crashed—emotionally and physically. The kind of crash that forces you to either reevaluate or burn out completely.

That was the moment that woke me up.

It was February 2024. I was stressed about work, running on autopilot, and living in a cycle of get it done, keep it moving, do it again tomorrow. At the time, I was on the verge of my second promotion in three years, and in full-on high-functioning, high-achieving mode. I worked all day, barely ate, barely rested—and then one night, I went to the gym for a session with my trainer… and woke up in the hospital. (More on that story coming in the faith section.)

What followed? A three-month medical leave from work. You read that right: The girl who worked 24/7 now had 90 days—2,190 hours—to. do. nothing. And I’ll be honest—the first two weeks felt amazing. Like I was finally coming up for air after almost drowning in my own hustle. But after that? It started to feel like a low-key nightmare. What. the. heck. am I supposed to do with all this time? There’s only so much Instagram scrolling and Netflix watching you can do before you start to feel like you’re losing it.

And it’s what eventually led me to discover something unexpected: A hobby.

I had started reading casually back in 2023—along with a few friends… from work, of all places. It began with some casual recommendations and a few weekends spent with a good book, but only when I had time—which wasn’t often. Still, that small spark of casual reading carried into 2024, just before my accident, giving me the perfect opportunity to keep going… but in a whole new way.

With nothing to do and nowhere to really go while I was recovering, I dove headfirst into reading. And not just reading—I jumped into the fun of the online book community too, gathering all the best recommendations, reviews, and reader conversations. And that’s when it happened. I started falling in love with reading. Not just with beautiful stories and satisfying endings—but with the joy of having something just for me.

As powerful and rewarding as hard work can be, so is having something that brings you joy, simplicity, and anticipation. Reading gave me all of that. It became my way to shut down the all-consuming thoughts of work. To let my mind rest. To let my body slow down. To let me just… breathe. It became my reset. And ultimately, it taught me how to appreciate something outside of work.

Something I would desperately need once I stepped back into the workplace.

And it’s funny—when the time finally came to return to work, I wasn’t the same person who had stepped away. Through the spiritual effort, deep reflection, and quiet space that time away gave me, I returned feeling lighter.

Not because I had less responsibility or ambition, but because I was finally carrying it differently. I was still that top-tier, high-achieving, hard-working woman. But now, I carried less desire for perfection and more desire for peace.

Peace found in building a life not just centered on serving others, but also one that served me. Peace in protecting my rest. In honoring my emotions. In nurturing my health. Peace in having boundaries. And in having something to look forward to on weeknights and weekends—something just for me. Something to talk to my friends about besides work. Something to share with my husband that wasn’t tied to stress or deadlines. Something that sparked joy, wonder, and imagination—all of which I’d been missing for far too long.

Because yes—hard work and service are noble. But can it really be honorable if, in the process, you lose yourself? Or worse… your life? Thankfully, that won’t be my story. And now, when my therapist asks me what I do for fun, I can smile and say,“I read. I love to read.”

And now? I get to share that love with you, too.