Personal Narrative – Complications of Becoming a Woman Essay

Upon first glance, Edna St. Vincent Millay’s “I, Being Born a Woman and Distressed” may appear to simply trace the course of a woman as she impulsively engages in the passion of a one-night stand. Yet, from a psychoanalytic lens, elements in the sonnet function to inform a different interpretation, one that transcends the manifest content of the poem to suggest that the speaker’s distress stems from her repressed homosexuality.

My gender identity has had a large impact on the behaviors and attitudes that I exhibit today. They are continuously changing with each new piece of information and perspective that I take in. From the media to college courses, they are many different angles from which I add or subtract from my gender identity. The strongest influences have come from my childhood with my family. I had a mix of masculine and feminine identities from the start, and they continued to evolve as I have aged. Both of parents affected my gender identity in different ways and helped create the identity I have today.

After all he was a complete stranger. I was fourteen and I felt like my life had been altered without my permission. I saw him once more after this initial meeting. We went to White Castle with my other siblings. As a child I struggled with my weight. I remember not ordering a lot of food. I didn’t want him to think I was fat. I made sure to be polite and engaging. I wanted him to accept me. I wanted him to like me. I talked about school. But I made sure not to brag about my good grades. He asked me about boys and although at the time there was a boy I liked, I didn’t dare tell him that. He laughed at my vague response and said he didn’t want to have to hurt some knucklehead boy. In that moment I felt safe, protected. It felt so good.

I seen Babe walking to his car as I was walking to mine. I walked up behind him and tried to start a conversation. He tried to ignore me, but one he realized I wasn’t leaving, he turned around to talk to me.

Growing up, my mom was a big impact on my life. Two days of the week she was a dental assistant. The other days she was just my mom. When she came home on the days after work she would smell minty and fresh from working in her dental office. I feel blessed to have been able to have my mother as a constant influence in my life. She showed me that I could be as mother as well as have a good job; I did not need to pick one or the other. My mother taught me how to stand up for myself and how not to be a pushover. One of the most important things I think that my mother taught me was how to be compassionate. Even as a young child when I heard about some of the terrible things that had happened in the world, my heart broke for those

We rode a couple rides but took a break so we could buy some delicious food from the fair. We walked to the first food cart we saw and bought a load of food and two bottles of water. I sat at a picnic table, and he sat beside of me. We ate some food and talked with each other for a while. When we finished we went to look

I didn’t know if Dale and I were out on a date or just spending time with each other. opening doors, holding out my chair, me snatching him back before he walks into a light pole, in front of a moving car, or trip over the sidewalk all because he kept looking at me. I didn’t know if I was flattered (highly) or frighten (highly as well). When hours or days go by and with me only remembering him opening his car door on a bright sunny day as I was getting into and… Dale opens the car door for me at night to getting out, what girl wouldn’t be a bit spooked. I knew I was in love with Dale and not just because of his good looks, had blinding smile, or his lips kissing me felt… Let’s leave the turning my legs to soft dough out of this conversation. What girl wouldn’t fall to pieces the way he lifts my leg. However, but something just didn’t feel… right. Tonight we were having dinner at his house and then to the movies.

I remember the first time I actually drank. I thought I was ready but I wasn't. After I thought about it I had a strange feeling I won't ever be able to hold myself back if I tried it a lot. So I decided not to drink until I know for sure

     Ar’n’t I a Woman? Written by, Deborah Gray White shows the trials and hardships that African American Women faced during the years of the infamous plantations up to the civil war. In this book White describes how the images of “Jezebel” and the “Mammy” and how they were the most vulnerable group with the least amount of formal power in Antebellum America. She compares the life of men and women in the slave society, and how truly different they were. The roles of women are shown through the slaves’ life cycle, family life, slave society networks, and the civil war. Each of these various aspects of life are discussed very vividly in the book, and serve purpose in showing how African American

During my sophomore year of high school, there was this boy in my math class named Preston Brown. The bell rang and dismissed the class, I got up from my desk and saw him smiling down at me. He asked for my number and we both exchanged it, I could tell he fell accomplished because his friends were cheering for him. Months later, he tried to make me interested in him by showing me his athletic skills and his gentlemen ways of treating a girl properly. I was interested in him but I never admitted my feelings because I did not feel ready dating him.

Being raised just by my Mom for a while had a major effect on the person I came to be today. When you think about a Mom, you tend to think loving and caring. With my mom raising me, she taught me just that. Growing up she taught me the values of being respectable to my elders, how to have proper manners, how to treat a girl correctly, etc… Most people would think that because of this, their son may come out to be “girly”. Since a father figure is not present. Although, I knew growing up that I had to act as the “man” of the house. So when my

We both connected on the floor and started dancing together. At the beginning it was rough. We were both getting used to each other’s bodies and energies, but there was a moment where it clicked for both of us. Neither of us was moving. We were just listening. I remember following her breath with my torso and moving to the tempo her exhalations had set. There were moments when we were interrupted by other dancers trying to join our duet. However, they quickly left the duet without attempting to dance with us. We had a strong connection that closed the door for others to join. We were not being unwelcoming; it just felt ok to be alone together. The most satisfying moment was when we both knew it was time to stop. None of us said a word, we lay next to each other and I felt the energy of her body hold the space. Although she was not moving, I could still feel and imagine how much space she was occupying. Although I was not moving, I was still active listening to her breath, feeling her energy, and holding the space. I remember feeling content with the decision of staying next to her. This is when I recognized how difficult it is to follow your intuition, but the feeling of satisfaction it brought was beyond

When I was living with my mom, things were really hard. We have been homeless, living from paycheck to paycheck, and even depending off the government to keep us alive. My mother made a lot of mistakes that taught me what not to do. She was abusive, alcoholic, irresponsible

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.

A woman like me in Rome B.C could not be compared to the average woman. My appearance physically was not of the norm for the time period. Modern day it wouldn’t appear too strange that I stood 6’3 but during a time when the average height for a man was 5’5 while a woman would stand 5’1 people did find it rather strange. My height I could not hide, my immortality wasn’t any easier.