We all know the feeling. There we are scrolling through social media checking out posts about books, happily connecting with like-minded people and BAM. A post pops up only intended to shame others for enjoying a certain book, a certain genre, a certain format. Logic tells us to swipe past and just ignore it, but our feelings sure take a hit.
This happened to me recently. I’ve always been big into book fandoms—LOTR, HP, Hunger Games. Each one united me with a group of readers who bonded with the series in the same manner. It had been a while since I felt that camaraderie, so I picked up a popular fantasy series everyone was raving about. Immediately, I understood the enthusiasm of the fandom and created a few posts about it. One day, I was scrolling and a stranger's post popped up saying, “people who post about ‘that series’ are only trying to be relevant and get views.”
At the time, I rolled my eyes and swiped past. But, something about her words nagged at me for a few days, until I realized why.
For years, I have struggled with my mental health. Depression and anxiety consumed much of my childhood and adolescence. Thankfully, with time, therapy, and meds, I have strategies to help on my “bad days”. And though my brain’s reaction was to ignore her words, I felt a quick moment of humiliation, of my psyche curling in on itself to hide, of my hypercritical inner voice telling me that I was so pathetic I couldn’t even post on social media the right way. A gut reaction. One I have spent years working to combat, Sounds very dramatic, right? But anyone with a mental illness knows this feeling all too well and has spent considerable amounts of time being shamed by themselves in some way.
When I saw the post, that automatic shame registered and was gone so quickly that I barely notice, but several questions lingered in the back of my mind. While this post did not put me into any kind of depressive tailspin, I worried about how it may affect others. What if someone saw it who truly felt singled out? Who truly felt triggered by the words of a stranger? Who felt too shamed to every post again? Who had the joy robbed from a comforting activity?
First of all, let’s state the obvious book shaming (or any kind of shaming) is never ok. Do I think the original poster intended to be hurtful? Perhaps, but what bothered me the more was she seemed to miss a central point. She said that people devoted to this book series only wanted to be “relevant.” But relevance is not what drove me, nor most others I suspect, to post. Resonance did. And it’s an important difference.
Relevance is all about “me”. Resonance is all about “us”—the fandom. The group of people who found something meaningful, something relatable in the books. Readers who embrace their shared love (or hate) of a character, their shared reaction to storylines and plot twists, their shared delight in the same narrative.
That is the magic of reading, after all—to connect with people from all different places, of all different ages, ethnicities, and religions. Books foster empathy and make us feel less alone in a sometimes too stressful world. Stories can be a lifeline for people who suffer from mental health issues. Today, the presence of social media enhances these bonds, adds an extra layer of interaction and fellowship among readers.
In the end, I walked away with two thoughts. One, the idea of this strong bookish bond formed over the love of same story was beyond the comprehension of the original poster, which actually makes me a bit sad for her. But more importantly, I wanted to speak up and tell others that while I know a book shaming post can be hurtful, I hope you will continue to engage with and post content that resonates with you. Your opinions matter, your excitement matters, and your words matter. The love on social media far outweighs the hate just as your love for yourself and the things that bring you joy should outweigh all else. I will be out there posting whatever brings me happiness and I look forward to connecting with all of you.
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