I swear sometimes I tell myself I want something nice and light-hearted to read like a rom‑com. Then, of course, I pick the one where someone dies in chapter two, a family breaks apart or the heartbreak is slow but completely unavoidable (at least that’s what I tell myself instead of just putting the book down to avoid it). Naturally, I cry my eyes out like a child bawling in the toy aisle of a store after being told no. Maybe in public and definitely in private. (My husband just lets me do my thing, and I love him all the more for it.)
Why do I do this? I think it’s because sad books bring something real to the table. Even if they hurt me, there’s some comfort in reading stories that are sad and sometimes remind us of our own troubles. They make me feel like I’m not alone. Someone else felt small, broken and lost too.
Also the sad books pull me in. I’m a total sucker for them every single time. The stakes are higher, and the writing feels more captivating. The characters are so easy to relate to and love in their own way despite their obvious flaws. It’s like a hidden spell the author places in the book, and I never fail to fall under its influence.
Sometimes I think our obsession with “feel-good” content makes us overlook how healing the hard stuff can be. We talk a lot about “self-care” and “comfort reads,” but maybe part of caring for ourselves is letting our hearts hurt a bit too. Sad stories can act as a release for us. They help us get rid of feelings we’ve been holding in like grief, stress or maybe even empathy.
It’s funny when I think of how I complain about authors writing stories that completely crush me. I’ll sit there and promise myself I’ll read only happy or cozy stuff from then on, and then I turn right back around and head straight for the book that hits me like a sucker punch to the gut. I think I need that emotional wreckage. It almost feels refreshing, like that crying after a really bad day (which ends in the best naps). It sucks, but it also feels like a weight off your shoulders.
Even if I regret some of the tears and want to close the book early sometimes, I know I’ll keep doing it. I believe stories that break you open are stories that rebuild you. Until I find one that rebuilds without breaking first I’ll probably keep picking the heartbreak ones anyway.
