A personal library can record aspirations more faithfully than completed reading.

Shelves show who you hoped to become. The books bought during a curious month, the subject you were sure you would take up, the writer you meant to grow into all stay visible, whether or not they were ever opened, and the collection ends up describing appetite more accurately than achievement. This is not vanity so much as autobiography written in intentions.

Read your own shelf as a document. What kept appearing? Which direction did you keep reaching in, quietly, without ever saying so aloud? That repeated reach is real information about what you want, and it may be worth acting on directly rather than continuing to buy it in paper form.