Personal Narrative: Personal Identity

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My family and I were lounging on the couch, letting our facial masks purify our pores as we resisted from laughing. The five of us spent the evening basking happily in the warmth of our home, chatting away. Aside from a few special moments, I often felt isolated in my home, as my two sisters were often busy and my hardworking parents were exhausted. I was born and raised under their nurturing guidance and protection. However, since I was a young girl, I knew they weren’t my immediate family. I was adopted by my biological mother's older sister, and I have lived with my cousins and uncle under the pretense that they were my siblings and parents. My family has given me everything I wanted, therefore, I want to ensure they remain unaware that I know of my real identity. …show more content…
I had learned of this secret, when my grandmother accidentally told me, at the age of six, when she was agonizing the tough life my biological mother has lived. My grandmother didn’t believe such a young child would remember this short moment as we laid watching tv. As she spoke, I stayed quiet letting my mind run wild. Initially, as I grew up I suppressed my thoughts and feelings, ignoring the increasing distress and resentment inside me. There were moments when I was dangerously close to speaking openly about it. With the passage of time, the question of my birth and furtive adoption preoccupied my thoughts. There were days when I was consumed by the fear of rejection from my family. I sometimes felt upset that my current life was one big lie, leaving me to act along with them. On other days, I planned vacations, plotting my escape and an opportunity to feign surprise when my family decided to reveal this secret to

Personal Narrative: Personal Identity

contradictions both society and myself impose upon my different identities as well as my position in respect to them. I am an immigrant, born and raised in El Salvador who moved to the United States way too late in his life to consider it his home but early enough to embrace the good aspects of its culture. I am also a gay cis-gendered male who is beginning to…

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Personal Narrative: Personal Identity

Each individual is unique in his or her own way due to the notion that who we identify as is formed by our own personal experiences. A set of specific characteristics belonging uniquely to ourselves. Although, like myself many of us may believe that we understand who we are, our identities are in fact more complex than we may believe. Who we are consists of our internal and external influences, aspects such as our family, environment and relationships all contribute to who we identify as. I often…

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Personal Narrative: Personal Identity

called out for an additional security check. It made me ponder over my identity that is often stigmatized in some western communities – being a Muslim woman of color. Getting called out for no obvious reason made me feel like an outsider. Do I have to leave behind my identity to adjust in this new atmosphere? From my experiences as a Muslim female student here, I can testify how challenging it can be for students with specific identities to adjust in a predominantly American college. When I was welcomed…

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Personal Narrative: Personal Identity

Identity Essay Five years ago, I started volunteering at Lifestriders, a therapeutic horseback riding center. There I was able to form strong relational ties with the children I worked with. Throughout high school, I would wake up at eight o’clock every Saturday morning to go work with “my kids”, and the more I went, the more I fell in love with working with children. However, for me this experience wasn’t just a one way street; as I taught the kids things, they taught me about myself. They taught…

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Personal Narrative: Personal Identity

when the holidays are until everyone is already celebrating, my family calls me American because I don’t share their traditional, narrow-minded views and speak my mind. I am Chinese anyway you slice it and the heritage runs through my veins and the identity rests of my…

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Personal Narrative: My Personal Identity

Baby Boomer generation. The last waves of dramatic social change they saw firsthand changed their personal ideologies. Instead of seeking a traditional family life, my parents decided to settle in an environment in which a child could blossom. Consequently, I grew up in a small close-knit predominately white town, surrounded by highly educated tolerant personalities. The basis of my personal identity developed in this unique setting. It might be that I am a white American woman, or that my parents…

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Personal Narrative: My Personal Identity

The identity that someone gives themself is what they wish they were. Someone saying that they are a nerd, a jock, or a rebel shows what they strive to accomplish, but I don’t think that identifying myself is that easy. Throughout high school I’ve had a hand in a multitude of subjects ranging from the school play to the Taekwondo class. I don’t think that I spend enough time in any one subject to be described by any one archetype, but in a way to combine them I would say that I am a wanderer.…

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Personal Narrative: My Personal Identity

I was born in The Netherlands. My mother is Dutch, my father is South African and my grandparents live in Australia. At the age of four, my family and I moved from the little town of Aalsmeer, The Netherlands to an unfamiliar land: The United States. Because I was so young, I do not remember much of the move but I do have vague memories of my first few years living and adapting to a new culture. When my parents dropped me off for my first day of preschool I only knew how to speak my native language…

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Personal Narrative: My Personal Identity

With a tanner skin tone, black hair, and noticeable birthmarks over my body, it’s hard not to notice the stark contrast between me and the vast majority of Americans. I lived in places where most people looked the same, with lighter skin tones and hair colors. Over the years, many people have told me that I was the odd one out. In a group or by myself, they would comment on how I looked and acted different from the rest of my peers. When I was younger, I was one of three Asian kids in my school…

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Personal Narrative: Octavia's Loss Of Personal Identity

Even the best of friendships can go sour. I made my way across my vintage-themed room and sat down onto the bed. Staring down into the palm of my hand where the necklace lay, now worn and blood-stained. A tear trickled down my cheek as I ran my finger over the once beautiful diamond-encrusted heart, “I’ve kept it safe Octavia, like I promised to.” Octavia was like my sister, my other half. I trusted her. We were known as Harper and Octavia, never seen apart. I remember when we went on a road trip…

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