Identity And Personal Identity

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Lately my mornings are spent getting up between 5:30am and 6am. I get myself ready, I never look fantastic just passable, and I go to work. Part of my morning routine is getting my dog, Donovan, ready for the early part of his day as well. We go to the yard for his bathroom routine, we go inside where I feed him his diet dog food and inject him with insulin, we go upstairs where I place a new diaper wrap around his mid-section (dogs with diabetes leak, who knew?), and he goes back to bed to sleep beside my husband. After we say our goodbyes I head to work, or school, or whatever adventure life has for me that particular day. Rinse, wash, repeat. I had no idea when I was in my teenage years that my life at 32 years old would be a tattooed, married, full time working, full time schooling, boring, Puerto Rican, animal lover. Well, the animal loving part I knew since I was maybe 2. I have many a self-concept, the set stable ideas a person has about who he or she is (Floyd 71), some are obvious and some are not so obvious. When people meet me, they see the identities that are skin deep, they see the parts of my identity that are more objective, they’re based on fact instead of someone’s opinion (Floyd 74). I have tan skin and wavy, frizzy hair so immediately people want to speak to me in Spanish. While dissecting myself I don’t immediately connect with I’m a proud Puerto Rican woman. Although I am incredibly proud of my heritage I am not so engrained in the culture of being
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