I am intrigued by the many women married to the military who primarily describe themselves as "a [insert branch here] wife." I am not simply an Army wife. Nor will I always be an Army wife. Why, then, would I say, "I'm Jessie, and I'm an Army wife." Would I not then lose my identity when my husband retired, or ended his military career? In addition, describing oneself primarily as someone's wife lessens the personal identity and makes one simply an attachment to someone else, instead of being the "strong, independent" woman that "Army wives" like to claim they are. I'm not just M's wife, I am myself. There is so much more to me than being Mrs. E. I am a college student, a doggie mommy, a preschool teacher, a volunteer, a reader, a writer, a thinker, a dreamer, a voter, a friend, a sister, a daughter, a future traveler, a person with a voice and an opinion... I am my father's and my mother's daughter...
I am presently pondering what I want to be when I grow up. I am no longer so sure I want to follow in Clara Barton's footsteps. I am once again wondering if what I wish to pursue is the path of the female author. I have almost always had visuals of passionate, ink-stained women, disheveled; who are driven by inner poetry, prose, characters and plots clamoring to be published. They live in big houses in the country (it's easier to have free thought there, and the quiet lets their creativity flow undisturbed. Also they are prone to nervous fits and the country keeps them calm) and have permanent paper and pen in their hands. Their husbands are darlings and everlastingly patient and understanding of their unsettled habits and temperaments. Interestingly enough, in the Women and Lit class I just finished, I discovered I am mostly right about the lives of women authors. ;-)
I always wanted to write my autobiography. This has been a fantastic influence on my life choices. I have determined that my life has always happened to be interesting and colorful enough for a fantastic read. In turn, I have attempted to keep my life that interesting. I will have stories when I am older. I will have things to say to those who ask. Or, as illustrated by this blog, those who don't ask. :-)
I am presently pondering what I want to be when I grow up. I am no longer so sure I want to follow in Clara Barton's footsteps. I am once again wondering if what I wish to pursue is the path of the female author. I have almost always had visuals of passionate, ink-stained women, disheveled; who are driven by inner poetry, prose, characters and plots clamoring to be published. They live in big houses in the country (it's easier to have free thought there, and the quiet lets their creativity flow undisturbed. Also they are prone to nervous fits and the country keeps them calm) and have permanent paper and pen in their hands. Their husbands are darlings and everlastingly patient and understanding of their unsettled habits and temperaments. Interestingly enough, in the Women and Lit class I just finished, I discovered I am mostly right about the lives of women authors. ;-)
I always wanted to write my autobiography. This has been a fantastic influence on my life choices. I have determined that my life has always happened to be interesting and colorful enough for a fantastic read. In turn, I have attempted to keep my life that interesting. I will have stories when I am older. I will have things to say to those who ask. Or, as illustrated by this blog, those who don't ask. :-)
No comments:
Post a Comment