Personal Narrative-Feminist Christian Girl Life

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Decision-making has never been my forte, exactly. I once drove around town with a friend for forty minutes as we exchanged variants of, “I don’t know. Where do you want to eat?” My proclivity for avoiding to outright choose one thing over another has been deeply inset since I was very young, and I believe it probably stems from an intense fear of rejection. Needless to say, the choice to commit to something I cannot see was one that was daunting and, for a long time, seemed puerile. Upon my mother passing away in 2004 and my father remarrying in 2007, the cookie-cutter Christian girl life I had always known permuted into something completely new. I was to attend a public school instead of a private Assemblies of God academy, which had been both terrifying and exciting at the time. The most severe shift, however, was that…show more content…
In that car ride to what would be one of several temporary homes, I resolved to never have hope again. I silently made a vow that I would not allow myself to let anything or anyone engender groundless optimism in me after that day. The years leading to this cynical oath were the hardest I ever underwent, leaving permanent scars (both emotional and physical) I would never outgrow. But the day they took us away was the day my world fell apart, and it was undoubtedly my breaking point. I stayed strong for my younger brothers; I had to take care of them seeing as all the foster parents we lived with were elderly. But all throughout the ordeal with courts and foster families and multiple new schools, I felt smaller and smaller inside. I would occasionally look at the self-harm scars on my left arm and wish with all my might to be back with my father and stepmother, because at least then I would be somewhere familiar. I felt that misery and suicidal thoughts were a fair compromise if it meant I would be in a place I
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