There are a lot of things that make me, me - Lluvia. There is for example why I don’t believe in religion, or why I think my mother is the strongest woman in the world, or being raised a female in a third world patriarchal country. But I decided to write this essay on how I became a woman.
31 ½ inches - breasts too small. Instead of focusing on my point of view; on what I think, they look at my breasts. At twelve they are already starting to judge me for the way I look. My mind, a powerful loaded gun, but instead of bullets it is full of ideas that yearn to be expressed. But no - I have to be quiet, I have look nice, women are supposed to look good and smile - that’s it.
28 inches - not thin enough. Your waist has to be as thin and delicate as a tuberose rod. My ability is underestimated even when I try my best. I’m judged because if they consider me thin enough it is also bad because that mean I’m weak. And if I am not consider thin enough I have a horrible body.
32 ½ inches - my hips are not big enough, sexier enough. A women with small hips is considered not good to give birth. My work is not taken into account because a woman is born to give birth, to clean the house and to cook. In school classmates judge my weight, my body shape and if I use makeup or not. The hard work that I do everyday is ignored but they follow every mistake I make. Since I was a little girl I educate myself to work as hard as possible for what I need and for what I want but I’m not taken into account I’m ignored.
Everyone experiences childhood in different ways, some of us have to learn that life is tough from the age of three and others have a beautiful beginning of life in a lovely family. In the poem “The Family Castle” by Nancy Rakovszky and the book “The Glass Castle” by Jeannette Walls that contrast is painfully evident. The two pieces have one thing in common - childhood. Yet all else seems different. These are two very different ways a mother takes care of her child and how she provides for her child’s needs. Both Jeannette Wall’s mother and Nancy Rakovszky represent a mother figure, but the former has no maternal instinct whatsoever while the latter is as fierce as a mother bear. Nancy Rakovszky is a strong mother who looks forward to raising her child and giving her best, “Our castle stands atop the hills, and offers strength of spirit, place your hand little one unto mine, and I shall lead you to it.” Rakovszky from the beginning of the poem imposes the protective view of ...
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