Scrolling, Stories, and Finding Solace in a Book

We’ve all been there: sitting on the couch, tea in hand, and scrolling through social media. At first, it feels harmless, a quick peek into what’s happening in the world, which animal rescues are profiling cute cats and dogs, who’s been having adventures. But somehow, minutes turn into hours, and instead of feeling connected, you’re left with an ache that’s hard to explain. It’s that quiet loneliness, creeping in as you see photos of happy groups on holiday, evenings out at the theatre, and people living what seems to be a more vibrant life. Rationally, you know they’re showing only their highlights, but emotionally, it’s hard not to compare your full reality to their curated moments.

Social media can be a wonderful tool, but for me, it often becomes a mirror that reflects the things I’m missing rather than celebrating the life I have. It’s not just about the absence of company; it’s the feeling of being disconnected in a world that looks so connected.

Over the festive holiday, I decided enough was enough. I wasn’t going to let my evenings slip away in a haze of other people’s highlight reels. So, I started replacing that scroll time with something that always made me feel better: reading.

There’s something about getting lost in a book that feels like a balm for the soul. Even though I’m physically alone while reading, I don’t feel lonely. A good story can make me laugh, cry, or root for the characters, and somehow, it makes me feel less alone in my own story. Books have a way of connecting us, even when we’re sitting in silence. It’s as though the authors, the characters, and the readers all form an invisible bond, reminding us that we’re not so different after all.

Psychologists and neuroscientists have studied why reading can have such a profound emotional impact. When we read, our brains create a simulation of the experiences in the story. This process, called narrative transportation, makes us feel as if we’re part of the world we’re reading about. The brain doesn’t just observe the story; it lives it. That’s why we can feel deeply connected to fictional characters or vividly imagine the settings they’re in.

Studies also show that reading enhances empathy. By stepping into the lives of characters with different experiences and perspectives, we exercise our ability to understand others. It’s a workout for our emotional intelligence. So, while scrolling social media might create feelings of disconnection, reading can foster connection, even if it’s with people who don’t necessarily exist.

My reading time has become a small ritual. I brew a fresh cup of tea, grab a blanket, and dive into whatever book I’m currently reading. It doesn’t matter if it’s a gripping thriller, something I can learn from, or an inspiring memoir, the act of reading itself is what matters. It’s time I’ve chosen to spend on myself, away from the noise of notifications and endless comparisons.

Some nights, I only manage a chapter or two before my eyes get heavy, but that’s okay. It’s not about how much I read; it’s about creating a space where I can reconnect with myself and the things that bring me joy.

This shift got me thinking; what if reading could bring us together, too? Imagine a Tea, Tears, and Triumphs Book Club, where we could share the stories that move us, inspire us, or simply make us laugh. It wouldn’t just be about the books themselves, but about creating a community where we can connect over the joy of reading. We could trade recommendations, chat about favourite characters, and even explore themes that resonate with our own lives.

What do you think? Would a book club be something you’d like to see? If nothing else, it’s a lovely idea to tuck into the pages of this little community we’re building together.

If you’ve ever felt the loneliness of the scroll or found comfort in the pages of a good book, I’d love to hear about it. What’s a story that has stayed with you? Or a book you’d recommend to someone who needs a little escape? Let’s start a conversation—because whether we’re reading or sharing our thoughts, connection is always within reach.

As an aside, my 2025 books so far have been How Beautiful We Were by by Imbolo Mbue, Directional Living by Megan Hellerer and The Escape Artist by by Jonathan Freedland. Admittedly, I read most of the first two over the holiday and finished them in 2025, but that counts, right?!