How a “Book-Hating Kid” Became a Reader—and What It Means for Your Child

Ever had your child look you dead in the eye and say, “I hate reading”?

It’s a punch to the gut—especially when you’ve tried everything to help them love books. You’ve gone to the library. Picked the right series. Read aloud. Bit your tongue during arguments. And still, the resistance remains.

If that’s where you are right now, I want you to know something:

That moment doesn’t have to be the ending. It might actually be the beginning.

This post isn’t about quick fixes or miracle strategies. It’s about what it really looks like to help a child move from “I hate reading” to “just one more chapter.” Not overnight. Not perfectly. But slowly—and on their terms.

Because I was that kid. And now, I’m raising that kid too.

Let me show you what I’ve learned along the way.

From Book-Lover to Book-Avoider

As a little girl, I adored books. Storytime was sacred, and I couldn’t wait to read on my own. I still remember the pride I felt finishing my first Berenstain Bears book in kindergarten—without help. But by third grade, everything shifted.

Reading started to feel like work. I was assigned books I didn’t connect with. And without realizing it, I began associating reading with headaches—literal ones—thanks to ditching my glasses (those bulky “Coke bottle” lenses were not it). The fun slowly faded. There was no dramatic moment, no big rejection of reading. Just a quiet chipping away until I was left with reading feeling like a chore.

And that’s how reading becomes a struggle for so many kids. It’s not always a single reason—it’s a slow fade.

Sparks That Didn’t Catch (Yet)

Even as a reluctant reader, there were sparks.

In fifth grade, I had an amazing teacher—Ms. Brasher—who introduced us to in-depth research projects using color-coded note cards. For a stationery-loving kid like me, that was a dream come true. I got paired with a friend for a project on Greek theater, and I was completely hooked. We dove into how performers used masks to show different emotions, created our own masks, choreographed a movement piece, and wrote a paper together. I spent hours researching… but it never felt like “reading.” It was creative, personal and fun.

In sixth grade, I picked up A Time for Dancing by Davida Wills Hurwin. It’s about two best friends who share a love of dance—until one is diagnosed with cancer. It was raw, emotional, and real. I was gutted… and hooked. The story drew me in enough that I didn’t skim, skip or watch the clock. I just read. It may have been the first time I truly felt immersed in a book, and it still lives with me to this day.

Then came seventh grade drama class—and Romeo and Juliet. I’d already fallen hard for the Leo DiCaprio movie version (what 90s girl didn’t?), so reading the play felt like getting a backstage pass. I copied my favorite lines into my journal, underlined every passage that made my teenage heart flutter, and treasured my copy of the script with a single red rose on the cover.

And yes, I still have it and the journal.

But as powerful as those moments were, they were fleeting. As soon as the project ended or the book was finished, I slipped right back into avoiding reading. They were detours, not a new direction.

A Trip to London (and the Seed it Planted)

My biggest shining moment as a reluctant reader came the summer before 9th grade. My parents took us on a family trip to London—and something shifted.

We visited the Globe Theatre—yes, a recreation of the original theater where Shakespeare’s plays were performed. I stood there imagining what it would’ve been like to be a groundling, one of the lower-class theatergoers who paid a penny to stand and watch the performances. My brother and I stood in that same pit (not for a Shakespeare play, unfortunately), and let me tell you, it hurt even as kids! But the experience stuck with me.

We also visited Stratford-upon-Avon, Shakespeare’s birthplace, where I loaded up on books about his life and collected works. Later, during the same trip, we stopped in Bath—where Jane Austen lived for part of her life. I’d seen a few of her stories in movie form, but this was the first time I bought one of her actual books: Persuasion. I started reading it on the Tube and in our hotel—and even though I didn’t finish it on the trip, that moment planted something.

That connection to England stayed with me. I returned three more times—twice with family and once for a three-week college study abroad. During that trip, I took a day-trip solo to Oxford, where parts of Harry Potter were filmed. I saw the staircase where McGonagall greets the first years, the Great Hall, the restricted section of the library. And of course, Platform 9¾ back in London.

At that point, I’d never read the Harry Potter books—just seen the first 3 movies—but walking those streets made me want to. I just didn’t have the time or motivation yet to dive in. Still, something had shifted.

To this day, I think that’s why I feel such a deep connection to Shakespeare, Jane Austen, and the magical world J.K. Rowling created. Those experiences didn’t instantly change my reading habits. But they kept the door open.

Because here’s the thing: for reluctant readers, the moment where those sparks ignite, doesn’t always look like reading. Sometimes it looks like travel, a movie, or even just holding a book you aren’t ready to read yet. But it’s still a beginning.

When Avoiding Reading Catches Up With You

In high school and college, I became a master of shortcuts—CliffsNotes, skimming, anything to survive required reading. Even as an education major, books were tools, not enjoyment, despite the fact that I was building lessons around them.

Then, ironically, my first few jobs post-college required tons of reading and writing—emails, reports, presentations. And I realized just how much I struggled. Reading took me longer. I had to reread everything. I relied on spellcheck like a lifeline.

Still, I didn’t connect the dots. I just figured reading would never be “my thing.”

A New Chapter (Thanks to The Hunger Games)

After losing my job and finding out I was pregnant with JD, I suddenly had time—and zero interest in watching yet another episode of anything. Out of sheer boredom, I picked up The Hunger Games after seeing the movies.

That changed everything.

Reading a story I already knew visually made it easier to get into. I didn’t have to work so hard to imagine the world—I could just enjoy it. That one book became three. Then came the Divergent series. Then late nights nursing JD with a book in one hand. Suddenly, books were filling a need that nothing else could.

But even more powerful? Watching what reading did for JD.

When Reading Becomes a Sleep Strategy

The first time reading really clicked for me as a parent wasn’t in an effort to boost test scores—it was during bedtime.

JD was not a natural sleeper when he was born. We didn’t just drop him in his crib and wish him nighty-night. In fact, for the first five months of his life he refused to fall asleep unless he was in our arms, on our chest, or riding around in the car nonstop. Needless to say, this was a long, and frustrating ordeal. We were about 2 months in when I started to notice him protesting sleep more than usual. On a whim, I started reading one of his baby books aloud while he lay in my arms. And something amazing happened.

Reading slowed his breathing. Calmed his body. He relaxed.

After seeing this reading had become a part of our daily rhythm: books before bed. Not because we “should,” but because it helped us both wind down. When it came time to transition him from our chests to his crib at five months, we leaned hard on books. And it worked.

That’s when I realized: if reading had this much power this early, what could it mean for his future?

I wanted him to love books. To have a different relationship with reading than I had. And that meant I needed to change mine—for good.

How I Became the Book Lady

That shift led me to discover PaperPie (then Usborne Books & More)—and I was instantly hooked. The books were vibrant, interactive, and irresistible. JD and I couldn’t get enough. I signed up for the discount, but quickly realized I wanted to help other parents find their kids’ magic books too.

What started as a side gig became a calling. I leaned into literacy, became a full-on learning junkie, and most recently pursued my certification as a Reading Coach to fill the gaps my elementary education degree had left behind.

And now? My life revolves around books—and helping reluctant readers (and their parents) find their way back in.

When the Book Lady’s Kid Said ‘I Hate Reading’

Even after everything we’d done to make books part of our world—bedtime stories, the best book picks, reading routines—there was a night about a year ago when JD looked me straight in the eyes and said: “I hate reading.”

And honestly, it gutted me. It was like the sucker punch I never expected.

Not because I’d never heard those words from a kid before—I help reluctant readers all the time. But hearing them from my kid? That stung in a whole different way.

This wasn’t coming from a kid who continually struggled with reading skills. JD is a fantastic decoder (better than me at times, I hate to admit). He had the tools, but somewhere along the way, reading had started to feel boring. Flat. Maybe even frustrating.

And here I was the “book lady,” the one who helps other parents get their kids excited about reading—staring down at my own child who didn’t want anything to do with it.

The Shift That Brought Us Back

In that moment, I didn’t say much. I didn’t launch into a pep talk or try to change his mind. I just took a step back and started to pay attention.

And what I noticed was this: reading wasn’t the problem. The experience was. Somewhere along the way it stopped being something he looked forward to, it was something he was being asked to power through alone while we dealt with his younger brother Hunter’s sleep issues. We’d taken our reading time with JD for granted and paid the price along the way.

That night was a turning point. I didn’t double down, start forcing books I thought he should read, instead I stepped back, watched more closely and got curious about what would light him up.

And slowly, we found our way back. Not because I pushed harder—but because I stopped focusing on outcomes and started focusing on connection. We built our reading life around fun, not performance. Around conversations and connection, not checklists. Around the spark that comes when the right book meets the right moment.

What This Means for Your Reader

If your child has never connected with reading—or has drifted away—it’s not too late.

Reading journeys aren’t linear. They have peaks and valleys, detours and dead ends. And sometimes, all it takes is the right book, the right moment, or the right connection to flip the switch.

For JD, it was the I Survived series. Specifically, the one about the Titanic. He was already intrigued by the story. I was giddy with nostalgia (hello, Leo DiCaprio). And that spark? It was contagious. He devoured it. We talked about it. Lived in it.

Reading became fun again—for both of us.

I’ve had to fall in love with reading again and again before it finally stuck.

But your kiddo? They have you in their corner. To notice the shift, adjust the approach, and keep reading alive—even when your child pulls away or loses interest for a while—instead of just accepting that they hate reading. 

That steady presence is what makes the difference.

Keep Offering the Moment

Raising a reader isn’t about doubling down. It’s about showing up with curiosity, patience, and faith in the power of stories. It’s offering new moments, new books, new chances to connect—again and again—until something clicks.

Because it will.

Reading isn’t something you’re born to love or destined to hate. It’s something that can grow, shift, and reawaken—often when you least expect it.

I know, because I’ve lived it. I was the reluctant reader who found her way back through research projects, dance stories, Shakespeare scripts, and late-night reads while holding my son. The moments didn’t always look like reading—but they kept the door open.

That’s what your child needs most: the door kept open. And someone like you, standing in the doorway, inviting them in.

So, if your child hasn’t had their moment yet—keep inviting it.

You never know which story might be the one that finally opens the door.

RESOURCES

• 🎧 Engaging Reluctant Readers Podcast
• 📥 Reading Bucket List Bundle – 164 ideas to help your child explore reading in creative ways
• 👩‍👩‍👧 Engaging Reluctant Readers Tribe (Facebook Group)
• 🛍️ PaperPie – High-quality children’s books for home collections
• 🔎 I Survived Series (Chapter Book)
• 📔I Survived Series (Graphic Novels)

FAQs: Understanding and Supporting Your Reluctant Reader

What if my child says “I hate reading” even when we’ve tried everything?

That doesn’t mean you’ve failed—it just means something isn’t clicking yet. Instead of pushing harder, try stepping back and observing. What lights them up in other areas? Can you tie books to that interest? Their “I hate reading” moment might be the doorway to something new. I strongly recommend this blog post to help you discover your child’s “just-right” books.

How can I tell if my child is a reluctant reader or if there’s a deeper issue?

All kids resist reading sometimes. But if you notice frustration, skipping words, or avoid anything with lots of text, or missed reading milestones, it’s worth checking for underlying issues like vision challenges, decoding difficulties, or attention struggles. A quick conversation with their teacher or a reading specialist can help.

Do I have to read aloud every night for it to “count”?

Nope. Some seasons, read-aloud time will be the heart of your routine. Other times, it might be audiobooks, comic books, or even quiet reding time while snuggled up together. The goal is connection—not perfection. If you find yourself in a busier season or out of your norm, check out this blog post to keep your reading rhythm going when on school break or your days are more chaotic.

What age is “too late” to build a love of reading?

There’s no such thing. I’d been a reluctant reader for over 20 years before I found my way back to reading for good. Kids (and adults!) reconnect with reading at all stages. Your child is not behind. They’re on their own reading journey—and you’re there to walk it with them.

What do I do if my child only wants to read one series or book over and over?

Celebrate it! Repetition builds fluency and confidence. If they’re loving something, let them stay with it—and gently offer similar books by keeping them visible and accessible. Familiarity is often the bridge to something new. Learn about the 5B’s in this blog post to keep reading top of mind in your home and on the go.