A New You

A New You.

As a young teen I spent many an hour pouring over a self-improvement book by Emily Wilkens entitled, A New You. Now because I did not own the book I had to resort to checking it out from my local library. I must have checked that book out a hundred times keeping my fingers crossed that this time it would result in a total transformation.

Today that same book, which is now out of print is listed on Amazon as starting at $500.00.  Coincidentally, I thought at the time that its worth was priceless because it seemed to hold the key in my thirteen year old mind to beauty and popularity. 

What I didn’t realize about that treasured tome was that it would start a life-time habit of perusing the Self-Help aisle looking for that elusive “perfect” book that would somehow solve all my insecurities, and doubts. 

What I have learned about myself along the way is that my personality type is the perfect storm for self-help books.  Always living in my head, reflecting and ruminating over and over again, plus loving to read, I realized that I’d been on a decades long quest to figure myself out. 

Now ironically at almost sixty-three I’ve pretty much come to love and accept myself, quirks and all. However, Im finding myself a little bummed that none of the self-help books seem to apply to me anymore. What used to be one of my favorite things to do, browsing through the stacks of a library or book store, is coming up short as I walk away empty handed. 

Not to be disheartened, though, I have found that my love of fiction seems to 
have returned, and my attention span for novels is improving as well. I’m going to credit my book club, and the accountability factor for “forcing” me to finish a book in a timely fashion, and reminding me how much I love to read. 

Now in full disclosure, I did resort to the cliff notes for our last book, the classic Little Woman. I just couldn’t bring myself to read it. I don’t know what it is about literature, but it’s never been on my radar as enjoyable. Perhaps for this reason I chose history as my minor and not English. 

I guess the good thing about this tale of woe is that if for some reason you are questioning whether or not you are good enough, or need some self-help, just give it about fifty years and all should be good!

Postscript: Several years ago I visited the library of my youth, and was disappointed to find that the book was no longer on the shelves. I can only imagine the allure it must have had for other young girls, and can’t help but feel a little responsible for wearing it out.