Personal Narrative: A Woman's Identity

I am not a repressed housewife. I am not a sweet dormouse that fears making waves. I am a millennial, and I am loud. I am a person who believes in America, and its policy of justice for all. Feminism is a huge aspect of our society. It's hard to scroll through social media without seeing a post about infringement on women's rights. I've never considered myself to be a feminist, and I still don't. However, one incident changed the way that I looked at the world, and how safe I felt within it. This incident showed me who I want to be in the world. My mom and I had just stopped at a Hardee's not too far from my small hometown. We were returning from a college tour downstate, and were starving by the time we reached Manistique. We could smell

Growing up with a father in the military, you move around a lot more than you would like to. I was born just east of St. Louis in a city called Shiloh in Illinois. When I was two years old my dad got the assignment to move to Hawaii. We spent seven great years in Hawaii, we had one of the greatest churches I have ever been to name New Hope. New Hope was a lot like Olivet's atmosphere, the people were always friendly and there always something to keep someone busy. I used to dance at church, I did hip-hop and interpretive dance, but you could never tell that from the way I look now.

I’ve always been an outsider, it’s been hard for me to build friendships and relationships. Not too long ago, there I sat in the corner of the room in the way back, trying to hide from the world, and be myself. I didn’t really want to get involved with anything or anyone. I was afraid to open up, talk to others, maybe because I was afraid to get rejected. Until, I met the best people I could ever meet, my best friends Marisa Mendoza, Jessica Contreras and Deseray Reyes, the ones who up to this day have sticked by my side, at my best, and worst moments. They have all been a big part of my life, I can enjoy every minute I spend with them. For me, they aren’t only my friends they are like my sisters.

As she walked away with the check and cash the phone buzzed, reading the message he smiled. Looking at her she didn't come across as someone sick, though you could never tell just by looking if someone was terminally ill. Often it was something inside, that ate away, only apparent at the end. A finger on his lips as he watched her open up the antique cash register and count out his change, which he did not want. For a moment he wondered, could he do it? Would it be worth it? She wasn't gorgeous, women like that only plan their own demise in the movies. No one in real life does it, and a gorgeous woman that a man instantly falls in love with, no one would do it. Or a madman.

to me this describes a young woman, full of energy and foolishness, non conforming to her environment and appearing rebellious at best. Much of this reminds me of my life as a young woman full of dreams and hope, not worried about consequences. And not quite a woman yet.

Last week I had the opportunity to speak with a girl who I worked with a couple times last summer. She is from Tajikistan, which is located in Central Asia. She is identified as Persian and speaks Russian. She left her country and came to the U.S on a work visa five years ago. Her story is very moving and deeply touches my heart.

Since my early teenage years I have been told that the way I think and reacted to things was like a man; so for the one day I had to live the gender experience of a man, I decided to take the role as far as I can. I did everything I could think of doing: I dressed, acted, talked, ate, fixed thing, be in control of everything and I even though like a man.

Until six months ago, I was not a feminist. Yet I wasn’t exactly not one either. If asked, I’d probably say sure--I guess. (What’s the alternative, a bigot?). Mostly, though, I was indifferent. My political preoccupation was economics, and social issues seemed distant in importance.

When I went for the interview the girls over there were really friendly and welcoming. A past co-worker of mine from a previous job was working at my current job and she told mw about it. The place that I was the doctor was a mess, awesome doctor but awful as a boss and he had no benefits what so ever. In this new place that I am now they have a 401k plan, insurance, 80 hours of paid vacation after 90 days of employment, aflac and a health savings account. When they offered me the job and told me all those benefits that I did not had before and their salary is more competitve I couldn't say

I recently realized with the feminist movement of the last few years, the metrosexual movement a few years before, and maybe too many Will & Grace reruns the years before that – Most guys have forgotten how to be actual men, and quite honestly it’s embarrassing. We’ve gotten so worried about coming off sexist, offending someone or saying the wrong thing. It’s sickening! This Jimmy Fallon style – everyone wins a trophy – never hurt anyone’s feelings way of living just doesn’t cut the mustard kiddos! It’s time to Man the Fuck Up!

The lyrics ran through my head as I scrolled through my Instagram feed. In a time where a small waist and big butt were in fashion, it came more naturally than I anticipated for women to encourage each other to ‘improve their looks’. The more I scrolled, the more I realized that women validated themselves by their physical appearance, finding more worth in the curve of their hips rather than the flexibility of their thoughts.

I woke up to my alarm clock blaring 'Leviathan II' by Parkway Drive, waking me up with a jolt. I looked at the clock, seeing that it was time for me to get up and get Alesana up for school and then get myself to work. I jumped out of bed, walking out of my room and to Ali's room, flipping the light switch on. You see, she's a really light sleeper, taking after me. I quickly walked downstairs to the kitchen, getting out the eggs and bacon, putting a frying pan on the stove and turning it on. I let it get hot while I poured myself some orange juice, taking a few sips out of it. I set it down and got out five strips of bacon, putting the rest away, and laying them in the pan. I got out another pan, putting it on the other burner and cracked an egg in it, wanting to

She shot herself at that party found dead on the lake not knowing what was coming to her not

Well, society encouraged me to act in “gender-appropriate” ways from the moment my parents found out they were having a little girl so my room when I grew up was all decked out in pink and purple, while my brother got a room with blues and greens. From the moment parents find out what the sex of their child is they automatically assign their child to the color that fits their gender like pinks and purples for girls and blue and green for boys. I always grew up surrounded by flowers and things that are deemed as girly and I found nothing wrong with it because it felt normal to me. Well an example of a socialization I experienced as a child was that I always thought everyone had a stay-at-home mom like I did and a father who worked all day to

The first time I was ever called a Feminist was in my freshman year of high school. It was a hot day in early June. Every student was itching to be set free on their summer vacation. Before the bell rang, The afternoon announcements rang out over the intercom with the usual monotonous stuff like the clubs that were meeting after school that day, and last call to hand in uniforms for the sports season that had just ended. Then came the standard dress code announcement. "Ladies and gentleman, we know the weather is heating up, but please still adhere to the schools dress code. This means that shorts must be fingertip length, and there are to be no open toed shoes or flip flops." After going to public school all my life, I had heard all of these