When I was a junior in high school, I won something called a book award, which recognized rising seniors who loved books and demonstrated a solid understanding of English and literature by presenting them with an actual book from a specific group or organization.

One May afternoon I sat in my high school's library with a small audience of my peers to see what work of literature I'd go home with. I nearly jumped up when my name was called and hastily walked to the front of the group, but my heart sunk when the American Association of University Women handed me a copy of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. I hate William Shakespeare.

As an avid reader and writer, I've been encouraged to read and love Shakespeare throughout my life. I grew up familiar with the story of Romeo and Juliet and was surrounded by popular Shakespeare adaptations like West Side Story and 10 Things I Hate About You, but the first time I had to actually read Shakespeare was in my sixth-grade language arts class. Our teacher read a number of acts from Hamlet out loud in class, and then we were assigned to finish the rest of the play at home.

My teacher took the time to go over everything line by line when we read it in class, but when I took Hamlet home and it was just me, myself, and Shakespeare, I was beyond lost. I sifted through the yellow, plastic hardcover book that creaked with each turn of the page, and all I learned was that Early Modern English hurt my brain and I couldn't seem to wrap my head around it. The first time I had to read Shakespeare then turned into the first time I discovered SparkNotes, after frantically searching the web for Hamlet summaries and explanations. I didn't rely on SparkNotes because I wanted to cheat my way through it; I simply wanted to understand what was going on in words and terms that were tangible to me.

I walked into class the next day and didn't tell any of my classmates what I did — because I thought I was alone, dumb, and probably way in over my head. Welcome to middle school, I thought to myself. You're in for a rough few years. I also didn't want to get in trouble for using SparkNotes, a website I knew was forbidden by all my teachers. A handful of students raised their hands to excitedly give their two cents about the characters, themes, and dialogue in Hamlet. The rest of the class remained as quiet as I did, but I didn't think I could necessarily take their silence for solidarity. After all, I had been told time and again that Shakespeare is "the greatest writer of all time."

For a while, Shakespeare was difficult for me to make sense of and understand. As time went on I became more capable of comprehending what was going on in his plays, but I didn't grow to enjoy them any more. In high school I got around to reading "The Taming of the Shrew," which I found problematic and, in turn, unenjoyable. From the way Katherine's character is portrayed as harsh and bitchy because she doesn't want to get married — meanwhile, her younger sister Bianca who happens to be more docile is therefore more appealing to male suitors — to the plot revolving around how Katherine needs to be "tamed" until she turns into an obedient and subservient wife in a marriage she's forced into, all the way down to the play's title itself, The Taming of the Shrew did nothing but irritate my budding feminist identity.