Could I love A Man? This Personal Identity Project post has been brewing within me for a long time, and with my son’s first birthday only a few days away, I felt like the time was right to explore the question: could I love and nurture and raise a boy to be the type of man that I respect? If you asked me a year and a half ago, I
I am very excited about this guest post from Jennifer of Hybrid Rasta Mama, and the perspective she shares with us today. The question of who you are first, or most, at your core is one that I ponder often. Am I mother first? Wife second? Who holds rank above the other? Is it okay to let your personal identity be consumed with motherhood? Being a product of divorce, two
How does your NAME impact your PERSONAL IDENTITY? Whether you like it or not, your moniker impacts your personal identity. Your name announces to the world who you are, aspire to be and can certainly affect much of your life. Often times even before you are born, the world has come to know and judge you solely by the name given to you. A set of values and expectations, hopes
With my cousin’s wedding behind us and Daddy D back to the grind after nearly two weeks at home, I’ve been doing some reflection on what it means to be his wife. The most loving act I have ever done for myself is marry my husband. By far. Without a doubt. Or a single hesitation. I love my husband, till death do us part…. and probably way after that too.
So. I’m bilingual. My family is Cuban and Spanish was my very first language. My first words were in Spanish and the people that loved and cared for me during my early childhood spoke Spanish. I was the youngest of five generations for most of my life, with a plethora of extended family. So its safe to say that if you were hanging with me and my mom’s side of
I’m a photo and story lover if there has ever been one, so when Stacy-Ann of Weather Anchor Mama emailed me a guest post request for the Personal Identity Project focused on her efforts in exposing their families’ history, I was all ears. And I’m so grateful for her message. As I aim to document Alina’s eventual quest for personal identity, looking well into her future for inevitable conflicts, I’ve