The best self-help books are actually memoirs
Collage by Matias Pacheco-Ramirez, Photographer
I used to get in trouble in fifth grade for logging Dr. Seuss books in my reading log… every week.
I couldn’t get behind anything with more than 10 words on each page, especially if there wasn’t a picture taking up the majority of it. Even though everyone else had already been reading and logging chapter books, I was firm on my aversion to them.
Of course, now I love to write, and I try to read at least a handful of books every year. I'm basically playing catch-up on everything I missed during my “protest.”
The beginning of high school is when I really began reading outside of the books assigned for school, and yes, by then I did comply. My teachers were not given an elevator pitch of why “Green Eggs and Ham” was a perfectly appropriate, lexile challenging book for a 14-year-old to be reading.
I’ve tried to read many self-help books, like “Atomic Habits” by James Clear, that offer the enlightening experience of creating a toolbelt full of tips and tricks to strengthen your mental endurance and management. However, no lesson or tool from these readings ever stuck with me like the ones from a memoir.
Honestly, I have a hard time finishing them, and many remain half-read on my bookshelf.
One of the first memoirs I read was “Yes Please” by Amy Poehler, in which she talks about her time on “Saturday Night Live,” working on “Parks and Recreation” and more. But what I found most interesting was her advice on dealing with anxiety, or “the demon,” as Poehler refers to it.
Beyond being an accomplished actress and comedian, on a basic level, Poehler is a person like the rest of us — one who has experienced really amazing, beautiful things like friendship, love and success, but also has dealt with grief, hardship and failure.
Hearing her stories reminded me that shit is going to hit the fan. It might even get stuck in the electrical box and come crashing from the ceiling, but eventually, a new fan can always be installed.
And, who knows, maybe that original fan was going to burst into flames the next day and burn down the neighborhood.
In the same way you would remember the story of how your parents met or a best friend's bad date debrief, the storytelling of a well-written, personable memoir can be very impactful through its shocking, candid or absolutely hilarious narratives.
What truly separates memoirs from traditional self-help or philosophical books is how personal and honest they are.
Some people don’t share as much in therapy as these books do.
I think there is something very charming about being open and vulnerable when it comes to the topics most of us don’t want to talk about or feel comfortable saying out loud.
In “I’ll Have What She’s Having” by Chelsea Handler, she shares an “embarrassing” moment: Jane Fonda bluntly told her she had been acting incredibly rude at a party Fonda hosted, and that some of Fonda’s guests had felt so insulted they reached out directly.
No one wants to be the biggest buzzkill, or worse, actively ruin multiple people’s night at a function — but it’s refreshing to hear someone share it anyway.
She could have very easily kept this to herself and pretend she was always entirely self-aware. Instead, she comes off as more relatable to her audience and showcases a crucial moment of growth.
Another great story, from “A Very Punchable Face” by Colin Jost, details what has to be a very low moment — having to poop in the woods while golfing, somehow getting it on his pants and then not realizing it until later in the round.
That sucks! But it is also very funny, and I’m sure someone reading this might have a similar story and is feeling a bit of weight coming off their shoulders.
The moral of this story is not that everyone should or needs to post their most embarrassing moments on social media or in a New York Times bestseller, but that it’s okay to not let every outcome define you.
Unlike self-help books that try to tell you how to live, memoirs show people living, making mistakes, recovering and finding ways to try again.