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A Case For Self Help Content
Why Self Help Content Isn’t Completely Useless
My first year of college was challenging for me. I moved across the country to a new city 8x the size of my hometown and didn’t know a soul. My confidence took a hit, and I spent a lot of time trying to figure out who I was and my place in this world.
I think this struggle is the greater purpose of college — beyond the classroom. Being exposed to new ideas, new people, a new environment, and seeing what sticks… and what doesn’t.
While searching for answers, I stumbled upon self-help books — and they changed my life forever… I’m kidding. But at the time, I certainly thought they might. I was young and didn’t know who to talk to about what I was going through.
At 18 years old, I thought I was too cool to talk to my parents about what I was going through and too afraid to talk to my peers because it seemed like they had everything figured out. So, naturally, buying a book off the internet that promised to change my life seemed like a great solution to my problem.
Hindsight is 20/20 on that one.
I started with books like The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck by Mark Manson and Unfu*k Yourself by Gary Johnson Bishop. Basically, any self-help book with the f-bomb in its title was up my alley. I can almost feel the teenage angst…
