The Shifty 19-Year-Old Me was Ashamed of Romance Novels. Then I Turned 22 and Embraced them theladiesfinger.com

I was 19 and playing at being a grown-up, when I sat alone at a café with a romance novel in my hand, a cup of coffee at my elbow, and an air of self-importance on my shoulders. Since I considered the title of the book — and its smoochy couple cover — an impediment to my pursuit of looking like a respectable adult, I attempted to hide it with a series of awkward motions that would have put the average contortionist to shame.