How do you measure satisfaction? What makes you you? How is your life defined? I often ask these questions to myself. The best answer is that my life is defined by my choices. Good or bad; they are mine. If I jump from a building tomorrow (with a parachute, of course), it’s because I want to experience bungee jumping.
I do not love definitions. Not only are they limiting, but are unnecessary. I am terrified when I get asked “Tell me about yourself” in interviews. And this is where the problem begins. As a person of the female being, society has conveniently put my existence into 3 categories. First, as someone’s daughter. Second, as someone’s wife. Third, as someone’s mother. This is what rattles my bones the most because society has programmed a woman to think that her life centres around servitude and dependence.