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A few days ago, I started reading a novel. I’d never read this author before and it probably wouldn’t be a book I’d ordinarily buy. But, it was a gift and I wanted some fiction for a change. 

It started out fine. But, 50-pages in, I just couldn’t go on. 

It’s probably a perfectly fine book but, it wasn’t for me. The author started with a backstory involving an abusive relationship. It got a little graphic and probably hit too close to home. I decided my life wouldn’t be any worse off if I didn’t read this book. 

What came as a complete shock to me was that my decision was followed with no guilt!

I’m patting myself on the back for this. I feel like I’ve grown. 

I used to be the kind of person who wouldn’t put a book down because I’d already started it. The concept of reading a book half-way through was so wrong. I spent hours pushing myself to finish some very boring, very bad books. Afterwards, I’d always think that at least I’m not giving up. 

But, now I realize that sometimes, it’s okay to give up. Just because a book is popular doesn’t mean it has to appeal to you. If you don’t like it, that’s fine. 

I think back now and feel stupid that I actually bothered to finish Fifty Shades of Grey. That’s a few hours of my life that I’m never getting back. Seriously, I could’ve put that time to much better use. Even staring at the wall would’ve been better. 

So, the lesson I’ve learned the hard way…. Life’s too short to read a bad book.