I have noticed a trend, on TikTok and Threads, of people identifying themselves within the romance reader community. Not just by genre. Of course, you have the romantasy readers and the dark romance folks, but I’ve also found that people are sharing pieces of their history and experiences, and it seems that many of the reading community have something else in common, besides a shared love of happily ever afters. A great many of us evolved into romance readers from a childhood where we were designated as “gifted“.
The omnipresent algorithm almost certainly has something to do with this, since it sends me user content that they know I’m going to connect with — accounts of fellow tattooed oldest sisters, and former gifted and talented children (also what the fuck is this title and manner of categorizing children? What on earth were we doing in the early aughts? Do schools still do this? I have questions). But I also think there are some clear roots in the dysfunction of being a gifted kid that drives us to read romance.
Gifted and talented kids are designated by their teachers and school based on their performance in their classes or their IQ scores. They are often thought to be bored in school because they are outperforming their classmates in reading, writing, math, or science. There are issues with this program surrounding equality, self-esteem, and the pressure it puts on kids. For some kids, it also helps them get the education they need at a level that works for them.
For me, and I suspect for most of the rest of the people talking about this in the romance reader community, my “giftedness” surrounded my ability to read above my grade level. If your sense of self was weirdly tied to reading far above your grade level, then you are in the right place.
How weird was it that all our teachers thought that reading like that was such an excellent measure of potential for future success, and here I am, pushing 30 in my pajamas in the middle of the day on a weekday blogging about romance novels. I don’t know the actual stats on whether this was actually a predictor, I am not a scientist, and also I don’t care.
What I do know is for me, and I suspect for many of the others talking about this on social media, is that despite the pressures of being designated as a kid who was going places, reading became an escape.
When we were young, we were praised for reading. It was a smart thing to do. And it was fun. Until it became an obligation. I was an English major in college, and obsessed with getting perfect grades. I did not get any grade lower than an A minus entire time I was in college.
I had something to prove, to myself, to my parents, and to the world. I was a gifted child rising from the ashes of what was truly a disastrous downfall (a story for another time), and to do that I needed to be perfect. I read Faulkner and Hemingway. I analyzed every metaphor within an inch of it’s life. I broke down language and theme. And by the end, I was burnt out.
Everyone’s journey to burnout looks different, but it’s a phenomenon many of the formerly gifted and talented experience. We’ve spent so long searching for praise, trying to be good, making everyone proud. I read only a handful of books in the year and a half after I graduated college. It felt like homework.
And then I rediscovered romance. Books featuring fairies and dragons and mafia men. Books about sex, magic, and murder. Books that my college professors and parents would likely scoff at. It sparked a new light and a new joy, and reconnected me to something beautiful.
Reading romance is a way to reclaim a passion for reading in a way that serves us. There is value in reading, in being good at something, and taking pleasure from that thing. It is a healthy coping mechanism for existing in a chaotic world, not to mention for dealing with the anxiety that often accompanies educational and career pressures.
I have very carefully constructed my life to resemble a D.E.A.R. (Drop Everything and Read) day as closely as possible. I’m not sure if everyone had these, but at my school, we had days where we would do no school work, and just find a cozy place in the classroom and read. It was glorious. I suspect many of us are trying to recapture that childhood magic, without the burden of grades or scores or pleasing anyone else.
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