Breaking my Book Fast

For the first time in six or seven years, I finished a book cover to cover. I've always loved reading, but between the demands of my career and, later, motherhood, it became increasingly difficult to find the time to sit down and read a book to completion. There have been plenty of novels I've started—and even started over—but I never made it to the last word.

I tried my best to break that cycle, and I did with the New York Times bestseller, Strangers by Belle Burden. I admit that I was influenced. I watched the author's interview on the Oprah Podcast, read a few articles about her story, and was finally convinced to purchase it when one of my favorite TikTok influencers, Clarke, highly recommended it.

I'm not sure if the book was that good (it really is) or if it was my interest in the topic at hand that kept me going. It was likely both. Strangers is a memoir of marriage, and its underlying themes of infidelity, traditional family values, and surviving what could seem like a near-death experience were interesting to me. Well, because I'm just a girl who loves love. A girl who hopes to get married one day. A girl who is ambitious and independent but still appreciates traditional family values. And a girl who has experienced crippling heartbreak before.

Belle's writing was almost entrancing in the way it allowed the reader to live through the experience right there with her. I also appreciated that there were very few instances of foreshadowing, so you never truly knew where the story would take you. Watching her interviews beforehand gave me spoilers, but it was still a surprising read.

Although Belle's social class is one I can't relate to (yet), the book reminds us that heartbreak is universal. I could argue that even if her ex-husband left her with nothing, she'd still be better off than me. However, she never denies her privilege, and, quite frankly, it was intriguing to read about the lives of the exceptionally wealthy. For reference, Belle is a pro bono immigration attorney who lives in a very nice apartment in New York City and was able to spend the early part of the pandemic quarantined in her summer home on Martha's Vineyard.

I'm not sure exactly what I was looking for when I decided to read the book. I may have simply been drawn to someone else's story, but I also felt somewhat validated. Not gaslit, not confused, not wondering if it was just me that having these thoughts and experiences. I appreciated that she chose to write through the pain, ultimately publishing a story many women can identify with. I support the idea of using your voice to speak up for many and to outright reject the notion that we, as women, should always suffer in silence.

Another part of me subconsciously conducts R&D for navigating relationships. I believe you truly never know someone, choosing instead to accept the uncertainty and trust that their intentions are inherently good. I also believe there is value in learning from others' experiences to avoid certain pitfalls. As a woman who wants to show up as the best version of myself—as a mother, partner, family member, and friend—I try to remain self-aware. That means identifying areas where I can grow, understanding how I show up in my relationships, and recognizing how my thoughts and beliefs ultimately shape my actions.

There was much to lament in Strangers, but even more to admire in the way Belle was able to pick up the pieces of her life, even when shame and guilt threatened to consume her. It was a beautiful phoenix-rising-from-the-ashes story. A tale as old as time, yet heartbreak still hurts the same, grieves the same, and heals the same, even as each person's experience remains uniquely their own.

Many thanks to Belle for sharing her story and helping me break my book fast. Finishing Strangers reminded me how much I've missed disappearing into a good book. After years of reading only what was necessary, it feels good to read simply because I want to. And it feels even better to know I'm finally making my way back to the books waiting on my shelves.

So for the first time in years, I didn't just finish a book—I remembered why I loved reading in the first place.